


The House of Wards

by Notsalony



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, BAMF Stiles, Character Death, Cliffhanger, Combat, Death Magic, Fighting, Flirting, Ghosts, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Naration, Nudity, Public Nudity, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Sees Ghosts, Stiles-centric, couples, restrospective, sterek, void!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 10:31:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12982164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notsalony/pseuds/Notsalony
Summary: Stiles and Derek get an epic level of couple’s therapy in the form of a cursed object and an ancient world long lost to war and bloodshed.





	1. Prehistory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halesrepublic](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=halesrepublic).



> Second year of doing the Eternalsterek Secret Santa gift swap.
> 
> Hope you enjoy your story. -smiles-
> 
> and sort of hoping I get a story this year.

“Stop here.” An elderly hand came out from under the shawl and pointed to the window set in ancient stones that was lightly frosted from the night’s snow in the long hallway of windows in this wing of the abbey.  His breath, coming out in thin white wisps of smoke as he spoke, drifted around him like a miniature fog.  The chill of winter’s embrace in the air hanging heavy as night waxed on, even behind the glow of magic at the window.   
  
“Elder… are you sure?” A tall young man said from behind his robes of white that hid almost all of his being.  His hands on the handles of the Elder’s wheel chair as they stopped at the Elder’s favorite spot.  Over the last few years this spot had been where he had stopped as the Elder’s attendant the most.   
  
“Yes.  I want to see the midnight rose one last time.” His voice was weak but adamant as he looked at his reflection in the glass.  There was sadness in those old eyes that hadn’t been this bad in a long time.   
  
“Elder…” The note of worry in his attendant’s voice made the Elder look back at him.   
  
“They’ll know where I am.” He gave a sigh.  “Besides it’s not like the council doesn’t keep track of my movements.” The man drew back his robes to reveal a face of someone who had lived a long hard life and he sat in his wheel chair where he could see out into the night where the snow had turned the field beyond the window into a blanket of white with only a single rose bush growing untouched by the weather in the center of it all.  The single bloom at the top poised to bloom soon.   
  
“Will it bloom… after…” His attendant started to say but cut himself off.  The way he held himself clear that he felt he’d crossed an unspoken line between them, and wasn’t sure how to proceed now on this side of the taboo.   
  
“After I’m gone?  Is that what you wanted to ask me Alec?” The Elder turned his head as much as his old age and robes would allow.  “The truth is I don’t know.  I’ve had a life time of learning the ancient and arcane arts and the one thing I have figured out, is that I can’t know everything.” The elder settled back in his chair.   
  
“Yes Elder.” The attendant bowed his robed head.   
  
“Besides, where’s the fun in always knowing everything?” He smirked playfully, even if the joke was a little flat, and he could see how little it did to assuage Alec’s sense of propriety.   
  
“Y-yes, Elder.” The attendant looked out of the dark folds of his robe and seemed to see into the old man in a strange way.   
  
“Alec,” He sighed. “I’m sorry for a great many things in my life.” He reached out and held the cloth covered hand of his attendant. “But I’m most sorry that I haven’t been able to instill my sense of humor into your keen mind.  I am glad that the council heeded my request and gave you the exam to move up after I’m gone.”   
  
“I have no business advancing..” His shoulders slumped, the soft roll of his cotton robes sloping his body with in their confines as he all but huddled in on himself.   
  
“Alec… you just can’t see what you have to offer yet.  Not everyone can when they’re just starting out.”   
  
“Elder… I’m… I’m not blessed…” He looked down trying to find a polite way of saying it.   
  
“None sense.  And just because some of the older Elders and Masters use that term, Do not use it around me.  My best friend was a bitten werewolf, and the love of my life was a born wolf.”   
  
“I didn’t know that.” Alec looked up slowly.   
  
“Oh yes.  That rose is the spot we professed our first love… and where he died.” The Elder looked out the window at the rose as it began to slowly open.  “Back then I wasn’t The Elder.  I hadn’t forged my own house.  I hadn’t even entered the war yet.  Back then I was just a boy, younger then you are actually,” He chuckled.   
  
“I wondered why they assigned me to you.” Alec looked down.  “I always figured with some of your history you wouldn’t like having…”   
  
“If you were about to call yourself a demon, don’t.  You are not a demon.  You’re a werewolf, a lycan, a wolf, or hell even a shifter.  Any of those are acceptable.  But I’ve fought for nearly eighty nine years for lycan rights here, I refuse to think of them as demons.  That sort of thinking is what led to the war in the first place.” He sighed, looking at himself in the mirror of the window glass, taking in his white robes with the black sash down the front.  He could remember a time when it was a black robe with a white sash.  It felt strange to be the Elder now.   
  
“Yes Elder.” If Alec knew how much he missed his old name.   
  
“You know… that wasn’t always my name.”   
  
“I know.  You had a name of the unranked.” Alec nodded.   
  
“A given name, Alec, that’s what it is called, or was.  I always forget how much of my world bled over into this one over the years.” He shook his head.  “At any rate, I had two given names, one that belonged to my maternal grandfather, and one to my paternal grandfather.”   
  
“I am named after the first wolf in my family.” Alec nodded.   
  
“Alec Velt was a good wolf.  And one of the people for insuring the treaty of houses held.” The Elder put his hand on Alec’s glove.  “Be proud of your heritage.” He nodded.  “Even if there are some in this place who would think less of you for it.  They’re what I like to call, wrong.” He smiled.   
  
“Yes Elder.” A smile crept into Alec’s voice and eyes.   
  
“Much better.” He sat back in the wheel chair as the rose began to bloom.  “I miss it sometimes… back before I came here.”   
  
“Before?”   
  
“I wasn’t born into this world as you were.  No… me and my werewolf lover were dropped here… it was our own fault.  Too stupid to know any better we trapped ourselves here.  But there are days… when I miss him.  And days when I miss that life.  I can’t imagine how my father lived without me.” He sighed heavily before breaking down into a coughing fit that made his chest burn with pain.   
  
“ELDER!” Alec knelt before him, a circle of magic forming under his hand as he lay it on the Elder’s chest.  Slowly his breathing returned to normal.   
  
“You paid attention to the healing spells.” He panted, his voice weak from his fit.   
  
“You taught me well.” Alec said softly.   
  
“You were easy to teach, you’re a fast learner.” The Elder held Alec’s hand.   
  
“You were talking about life before coming here?” Alec asked quietly, trying to not draw attention to himself.   
  
“Yes… a world away from here, completely different, from a time back when I was just a boy named Stiles.”   
  


***

  
  
“YOU SPOILED LITTLE BRAT!” Derek growled.   
  
“You say that now Sour wolf but you know I’m right.” Stiles walked past him to the bookcase to pull down a spell book.   
  
“YOU’RE NOT DOING IT!”   
  
“Am.” Stiles rolled his eyes as he cracked the book open and began looking something up.   
  
“STILES!” Slammed his fists onto the table hard enough to crack the finished wood.  Stiles was glad he hadn’t sprung for metal now.  Easier to clean, but a bitch to buff fist shapes out of.  He reacted with an eye twitch as he shouted back.   
  
“DEREK!” Stiles slammed his hands down on the table on either side of the book and leaned over the table to glare at the werewolf who was standing there with his amber eyes glowing at him.  Stiles’ eyes flickering down to the crack in his table, Derek’s eyes followed and softened.   
  
“Don’t.” Derek backed down a little.   
  
“It’s one spell.  It’ll unlock the nature of the artifact and we can deal with that.”   
  
“We don’t know what it is, or where it came from.”   
  
“Yeah.  Hence the spell.” Stiles shrugged, gesturing at the book.   
  
“I said no.”   
  
“Derek, you’re not in charge of me.” Stiles went back to the shelf.   
  
“Yes I am.” Even Derek could hear the petulance in his own voice as he said that.   
  
“Please, Scott put you in charge while he’s out of town for the week.  But he and you both know that doesn’t cover me.” Stiles went back to getting supplies, reading down the list and going after different things.   
  
“STILES!” Derek growled, his hands slamming on the table that groaned angrily at the harsh treatment.   
  
“Derek.” Stiles sighed.  “How would you have me do this without a spell?”   
  
“I… I don’t know but that doesn’t…”   
  
“Derek.” Stiles turned and looked at him.  “I am aware you care about me.  You know I care about you.  I know you can smell how much I care about you.  But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop doing my job as pack Emissary.”   
  
“Stiles… I.. I don’t trust this.  That thing just appeared in the middle of a city park.” He glanced at a helmet that bore some odd marks.   
  
“Yep.  So either it came from another world or a point in time, or the other side, or some where we don’t even know about yet, and without a direction to look, we’re kind of stuck.  And it’s better to know what we’re up against or at least part of the rules.” Stiles looked at the list and picked up the next few herbs and started adding them to the mixture.  Had he been paying attention he might have noticed the change in page that had been caused by Derek’s pounding fist.   
  
“It’s still too dangerous.” Derek was following him now, a clear sign he was moving to bargaining.   
  
“Yes, it is dangerous.  It’s magic.  It’s not skipping through meadows kissing puppies and drinking rainbows.  There’s blood and death and a hundred horrible things waiting to kill me so they can wear my soul like a trophy belt or something.  The point is, it’s never completely safe.  Even with all the wards I have on this place.” Stiles pointed to the runes in every known language and a few from other realms and worlds that he’d discovered as he got to this point.  “You don’t want to know what I had to do to get those shadow runes.” He pointed to a series of large glyphs that made odd patterns throughout the other symbols.  “I try to keep this room, this space, as safe as I can make it so it contains whatever I might be working with from hurting anyone in the pack or the outside world.”   
  
“And what about you?”   
  
“Me… I’m a 198 pounds of sarcastic wit, who knows the most spells of any Emissary in the next 164 miles.” Derek looked at him with a scowl.  “There’s an Emissary who’s territory starts about 164 miles that way.” Stiles pointed.  “She knows like two more spells than me.” He sulked back to the shelf to get the next ingredient.  “But that’s not the point.”   
  
“Why don’t we call her?”   
  
“You did not just say that.” Stiles stopped, the bottle he’d been carefully measuring pouring more in then he meant to.  “Seriously, how thick…” He slammed the bottle down.  “Out.”   
  
“What?”   
  
“OUT OF MY LAIR!” Stiles yelled.   
  
“Why… wait… your lair?” Derek blinked   
  
“Damn it.” Stiles hung his head.   
  
“You seriously call this your lair?”   
  
“I toyed with laboratory but that felt too … not this place.  I’m still working on it.  But can you just go and let me work.” Stiles sighed.   
  
“How would Scott handle this?”   
  
“He’d probably make me use the rune of other and…”   
  
“The rune of what?”   
  
“Damn it.” Stiles hung his head again.  “The rune of other.” He walked over to a book and opened it and showed Derek a complicated looking bind rune.  “I took a series of bind runes and created a named rune for myself.  I call it the rune of other.  It binds me and one other person so that we can always find each other and we can sense each other.  And to a limited extent it lets me share a wolf’s healing factor.” Stiles crossed his arms.   
  
“What do you need to do it?”   
  
“Your arm, some ink, and a blow torch.”   
  
“So a tattoo.”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“Great.” Derek rolled up his sleeve.   
  
“You’re really not going to just let this go, are you.”   
  
“Nope.”   
  
“Gods damn it.” Stiles went and got his kit.   
  
“How long does the tattoo last?”   
  
“Till it’s used up.”   
  
“What’s that.. FUCK!” Derek hissed as Stiles set the blow torch onto his forearm while he began to use a wand to apply the ink onto his arm.  Twenty minutes and two tattoos, one for each of them, later, Stiles sighed and went back to finishing off his information spells.   
  
“You could have warned me.”   
  
“And you could have stood outside the door and let me work.” Stiles shrugged.   
  
“Stiles.”   
  
“Working.” He started stirring the ingredient.   
  
“How does this work?”   
  
“I mix this together, I pour it on the helmet, I saw a few words, and it tells us what it is.”   
  
“How’s it tell us anything?” Derek frowned, Stiles looked up at him from the book he was glancing at before.   
  
“Honestly?”   
  
“Let’s start there.” Derek crossed his arms.   
  
“No clue.  Sometimes it’s a voice, sometimes its pictures, sometimes the object grows lips, one time an object became a person.  Frankly while magic has scientific elements to it, it’s more interpretive art then hard science.”   
  
“Great.” Derek shifted uneasy, favoring his new tattoo.   
  
“Also you’ll feel a tight pinch when I do magic.”   
  
“okay?”   
  
“Scott takes it like a man.” Stiles challenged.   
  
“A tight pinch where?” Stiles smirked before throwing the powder on the battered helmet.  “Stiles…”   
  
“Reveal unto me the truth of your truths, reveal unto me….”   
  
“where…”   
  
“… your origins…” Stiles talked over Derek.   
  
“…come from…” Derek talked over Stiles, but Stiles stopped talking and was looking at the neon blue helmet.  “What?”   
  
“Derek you talked over my spell…”   
  
“So…”   
  
“The tattoo makes you part of the spell… you just asked this thing to reveal where its origins come from… you…” He didn’t get to finish the statement as they were pulled away from one another in a blinding furry as the world peeled away leaving stark white everywhere and hurtling Stiles against a tall leafless tree in the middle of a winter forest.   
  
“crap..” He winced, glad for the healing factor as he staid still waiting for his ribs to finish healing.  “DEREK!” He shouted, wincing from his pain but didn’t get any answer.  “Great.  Just fucking great.” Stiles picked up his phone out of his pocket and dialed but couldn’t get a dial tone.  “Even better.” He pulled his sleeve back to look at the tattoo and frowned.  The other half of the tattoo was gone.  “Okay so magic here works wonky.  Our world we each get a separate tattoo, here we each get half the tattoo.  Good to know.” He struggled to get to his feet, looking around and shivering.  It’d been spring on Earth, but here it was winter.  He’d freeze if he didn’t get warm.  Looking around he quickly dragged out a circle in the snow with his feet, making it roughly five foot across, once he finished the circle he stood back.   
  
“Up and life!” He flicked his hands up and the snow within the circle lifted up forming a dome from the edge of the circle.  He lifted his hands up and the dome raised into the air, he sat down on the snow free leaf covered ground and gestured to seal the snow back to the earth at the edge of the circle.  It was like an igloo only a couple inches thick, but it’d keep him warm.  He shaped air holes along the bottom so he’d have fresh air.   
  
“Moss of the earth, be my coat…” He pulled at the moss under him and it came away, knitting itself into a red hoody that he slipped into.  Once wearing that he pushed the leaves and sticks together into a pile.  “Embers of life lost to winter’s death, spring forth and consume.” The glowed with an inner fire as the pile of objects gave every bit of warmth they’d absorbed in their lives out now.  It wouldn’t make smoke or burn him in his sleep; it’d just keep him cozy for now.   
  
“Okay… so that’s basic needs for tonight…” Stiles sighed as he drew a circle in the ground.  “This is the world.  The world is round.  I am centered here.” He made a spot.  “Show me Derek.” Nothing happened.  “Point me to Derek.” Nothing happened.   
  
“Damn it.” Stiles sat back.  “Point me the other half.” Stiles held up his rune towards the map but nothing happened.  “Damn it.” Stiles flopped back and laid on the dirt with growing dread.  “Maybe it works differently here…” Stiles wiped the circle and drew a bigger one.  “This is the world, the world is round.  Point me.” Two dots appeared within the circle.  “Okay… so you say I’m in two places at once.  That’s lovely.” Stiles laid back.  “Now I just have to find Sour wolf.” Stiles sighed, glancing at the map.  “Wait… which dot am I?”   
  


***

  
  
It took a couple days before Stiles figured out which dot on the make shift map he was, and before he noticed any real change in movements.  It didn’t help that Derek didn’t stay put. He was clearly trying to find Stiles and was making it harder to track him by magic.  The little bits of magic to make sure some of the plants he found were safe enough to eat hadn’t filled his belly enough to catch up to Derek and he was starting to go faster then Stiles could.  Every night he’d make his little hut of snow and camp out, turning on his phone and watching videos of Scott and their friends he had on his phone.  He also wrote instant messages to everyone.  Not that they’d send from here.  Maybe someday he’d get out of here… and they’d all send and they’d know he was thinking about them.   
  
But as the days turned into his second week in this winter location surviving off of boiled roots, Stiles was starting to get cranky.  He’d tried the return home spell he had memorized, but quickly realized that since the portal that brought him and Derek here was in his apartment, the spell couldn’t work because he was, for all intents to the magic, in his apartment.  He’d tried seventeen variations.  Only one of which had moved him.  Back to the exact spot he had fallen into when he first entered this world.  Two week’s travel lost he gave up on teleportation spells.  Three days into making this his new home for now, he’d worked out a decent trapping spell to catch what he assumed passed for rabbits in this realm.  They were like rabbits but, had tiny crystal horns and when he cooked one, he realized their bones were made out of diamonds.  Stranger creatures, but at least he was finding a use for their bones as tools and storing what he hadn’t used in his pockets.   
  
He’d tried several communication spells but every time he tried to aim it at both himself and Derek the message always came to him instead.  It was like the magic here couldn’t make up its mind how it wanted to be so it’d be contrary to itself every other minute.  At least he was surviving for now.  He’d gotten better at tracking and setting up traps but he was starting to wonder if this was all his life was going to consist of.  A life of hunting for food and struggling to survive in this alien world, Stiles wasn’t sure if that would be a bad thing or not.  But as seemingly peaceful as this was, he couldn’t leave his dad alone forever.  He just couldn’t stand the thought of his dad never knowing what happened to him.   
  
“Maybe I can try opening the portal again…” Stiles sighed as he lay back, trying to get comfortable.  He shut off his phone and put it away in his jeans pocket.  Plunged into darkness, Stiles listened to the night sounds around him.  It was quiet for a change. His eyes shot open.  It was quiet.  Not one night while he was here had it ever been quiet.  Shit, something was out there, and whatever it was, was scaring the crap out of everything that normally moved in the dark of night.  Stiles was just starting to move when something stabbed through his wall of snow and with a spring like motion opened up and pinned around on either side of his neck.   
  
“HEY LET GO!” Stiles shouted, trying to raise some magic but nothing coming.  Frowning he thrashed as more of the containment staff came down and held his limbs still.  Stiles struggled but then he heard them chanting.  It was a low droning sound that seemed to swallow up the world before he was falling through darkness only to land on a hard marble floor in the middle of an intersection of hallways.   
  
“Welcome child.” Someone in black robes with a white apron stood before him, as did someone in white robes and a black apron.   
  
“Where am I?”   
  
“Welcome to the House of Wards.”


	2. The War, The Beast, and the House

Stiles looked up the two robed figures and frowned.  They looked human but he hadn’t seen any structures or signs of a human population in the almost month that he’d spent here.  He stood up straight, feeling the bones in his back adjust from the fall to the floor.   
  
“The house of wards?”   
  
“Yes child.”   
  
“And that’s what?  Some sort of fast food place… like the house of waffles?” The two figures turned to one another.   
  
“house of waffles?” One of them asked quietly.   
  
“I’ve never heard of that…”   
  
“Well that’s where I belong, bye!” Stiles ducked and ran down a hall past them.  He was maybe thirty or forty feet when he looked behind him and turned back facing forward only to run towards the two robed figures.  “But… you were… and I was… and…” Stiles stopped, panting and held up a finger.   
  
“Using magic to be in two places at once is cheating.” Stiles panted.   
  
“We are not in two places at once.” The figure in the black robes said quietly.   
  
“And what do you call this?” Stiles gestured.  “I could spit down that hallway and hit you in the back of the head.”   
  
“Redistribution of a singular point across an infinite plane to give the illusion of omnipresence.  Really it’s a first year spell.” The man in the white robes crossed his arms.   
  
“First year spell… what is this… some sort of magic school?” Stiles panted.   
  
“Yes.” They both answered.   
  
“Awesome… why can’t I catch my breath?”   
  
“A deterrent to running in the halls.” The black robed figure said.   
  
“Spell?”   
  
“Of course.”   
  
“Good.  Breathing normalize.” Stiles put a little more magic into that statement and the air seemed to stabilize around him, causing the other two to look at him after looking at one another again. “What?”   
  
“How did you do that?”   
  
“It’s a spell.  Well sort of.”   
  
“But it’s not in the library…”   
  
“Of course it’s not.  I just made it up.”   
  
“You’re a word smith?” The white robed figure seemed shocked.   
  
“What’s that?”   
  
“You’re capable of creating your own spells.” The black robed figure said slowly, glancing at the white robed figure.   
  
“Never heard it called that.  I just always heard it being called a spark or a witch.”   
  
“Interesting… where are you from?”   
  
“Beacon Hills.”   
  
“We’ve never heard of this place…”   
  
“I’m not surprised.  It is in an entirely different reality after all.”   
  
“You’ve shifted from other worlds?”   
  
“Well not on purpose.  This is my… second time in a different realm or reality from the one I was born in.  Both times it wasn’t on purpose.  The first time I was kidnapped by the wild hunt, this time I found a helmet that had just appeared in my world and my… _friend_ …” He struggled for a word that would encapsulate Derek properly. “He talked over me while I was doing a spell to have the helmet tell me where it was from… and he changed the spell to be show us …which with your realm’s magic meant take us to…”   
  
“There are more from your realm here?” They looked worried.   
  
“He’s pretty far from where I was… in fact… uh…” Stiles quickly crouched down.  “This is the world.  The world is round.” He drew a circle.  “Point me.” Two dots appeared, Stiles’ red dot was in the center and Derek’s was almost to the edge of the map.  “Damn… you guys teleporting me moved me even farther away from him.”   
  
“Can you judge distance on this… map?” The black robed figure looked down at it.   
  
“Yeah… I think.  Given how much I’ve been exploring the last few weeks… about every inch …” Seeing their confusion he held up his fingers to demonstrate the unit of measurement.  “That’s an inch.  And about every one of those, is about ten or so miles?” More confusion.  “Uh.. hang on.” Stiles pulled out his phone.  “How many inches in a mile.”   
  
“63,360 inches in one mile.” His phone chirped back at him.   
  
“What magic is that?” The white robed figure stared, his gaze fixed on Stiles’ phone.   
  
“Right… uh… well do you guys have familiars?” Stiles looked down at his phone.   
  
“Summoned spirits that do your bidding, it’s a lost art… yes.” The white robed figure nodded.   
  
“My people figured out how to build them with technology.  This is basically a library and wealth of information stored in a handy carrying system.”   
  
“Interesting… is it replicable with our spells?” He eyed Stiles.   
  
“Uh… I have no clue actually.  I’ve never tried to duplicate technology with sorcery.” Stiles scratched the back of his neck as he bit his lip.   
  
“Let us not attempt … such an undertaking when replacements are so… sparse?” The black robed figure turned to the white robed figure.  Stiles was starting to get a sense of who was in charge.   
  
“Thanks.  So… can I go?” Stiles looked at the white robed man.   
  
“You are a powerful word smith.  Normally if you had training to defend yourself we might have let you go on and try to track down your friend.  But with the distance between you and the fact that you’re friend is in demon country and not likely to survive for much longer… I’m afraid we cannot simply let you go only to watch you die later.”   
  
“DEMONS?” Stiles looked down at his map.   
  
“Yes… given your system of measurement… you were picked up here.” The black robed guy pointed a gloved hand at the floor.  “You were only a couple week’s distance from the edge of their territory.  Your friend is well across the border.  We can dispatch a hunting party to try to retrieve him… but it may already be too late.”   
  
“Great…” Stiles closed his eyes and tried to think.  “Can you teleport me there?”   
  
“What good would that do?” The white robed figure shook his head.  “You are powerful, but you don’t understand the magics here.  What if you make the demons in the area more powerful, more blood thirsty… you’re too dangerous out there.”   
  
“Fine.  Then train me!” Stiles yelled at him.   
  
“That’s the idea.” He turned and walked away.   
  
“Did… did I just get enrolled in magic school?” Stiles turned to the black robed man.   
  
“I believe you did.” He nodded, walking behind his master and Stiles shrugged and decided to follow.   
  


***

  
  
Stiles wasn’t sure how long they walked, or even where they were in the house.  They eventually came to a large circular room with a sculpted map of the area.  He recognized some of the places that he’d camped out at over night.  He stood beside the two robed figures looking out at the very large map that looked like it was almost twenty or thirty feet across.   
  
“Brother Andrews.” The white robed figure said quietly and the black robed man went and shut the door and doused the lights.  “Avail.” He threw out his hands and there was a sort of ripple through the map, updating it, and stiles could see the spots where his campsites were suddenly very apparent.  They could update their map.  Stiles was more than a little envious of that.   
  
“Given your measurements we can assume your friend is somewhere in this area.” Andrews pointed to a group of mountains where the trees thinned out.  “It’s at the edge of where we can teleport our troops.  The hunting party will be able to make it, and if we’re lucky they’ll find your friend.  Sadly I think your tracking spell is limited on range… though I’m not sure if it’s range or the fact that while we ward our lands, the demons ward theirs as well.  We can view their lands on the map but not teleport within their borders.”   
  
“Right… uh, if it helps… his name is Derek and he’s probably going to be angry and kind of sour about being trapped here.  Just tell him you have Stiles, that’s me, and that I’m safe.  He’ll calm down.”   
  
“I’ll inform the hunting party.” Andrews nodded.  “Inostros.” He held up his hand and a twisted bit of magic formed and flew away.   
  
“Inos…”   
  
“NOT WITHOUT TRAINING!” Andrews threw his hand over Stiles’ mouth.   
  
“mhy?” Stiles asked from behind his hand.   
  
“Because it’ll send a sensory over load and a basic copy of everything on your mind, every stray thought or intuition to the subject’s mind.”   
  
“Right.  No using that spell till I’m more focused… and crap.” Stiles sighed.   
  
“What?” Andrews looked at him.   
  
“Do you have adhd here?”   
  
“What’s that?” The white robed figure looked at him.   
  
“Basically I have this disorder where my brain is hyper active and I can’t focus on any one thing for too long.  There’s a host of behavioral issues attached with it, and I’m prone to get off on tangents for hours at a time… but I have meds that I usually take and I haven’t been taking them since I got here.  I’ve been using the meditations for my magic to make a poor substitute and so far it’s just barely working.”   
  
“You seek medication…” The white robed figure pondered.   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“Maybe Sister Wane?” Andrews looked over to the man in white.   
  
“You have a point Brother Andrews.  After we are done here you may take him to see her.” He nodded before waving his hand over the map.  “As you have surmised our race are all born with magical talents?  We gather at which ever house is closest to us and our talents and we commit our lives to the war of light and dark against the demons.” He sat back and a dark hulking muscle bound figure appeared above the map.  Its face beastial and flattened with a mouth like a dragon with built in fangs that seemed to go the width of its face.  Its ears were on the back of its head towards the top just behind the antler like horns.  All down its back were horns and bones, all of it black as pitch while its eyes burned like cobalt flames.  But it was the cloven hoofed legs covered in thick fur.   
  
“These are the demons.  They control the other half of our planet.  Long ago we lived in perfect peace with them.  But someone started a war.  We don’t know which side started this never ending war.  But for the last millennia they have fought to kill us, and we have paid them back in kind.”   
  
“And no one has thought to talk to them and find out what it’d take to end the war?”   
  
“They have lost the power to speak our tongue, and we have long since lost the words that would give us the ability to speak as they do.” Andrews shook his head.   
  
“So you’re locked in a never ending war and my… _Derek_ … is stuck in the middle of it.  Great…  How soon till you’re hunters are dispatched?”   
  
“The message will have been sent to the most ready and capable team, and they’ll be teleporting out momentarily.”   
  
“Great…. You said something about medicine?”   
  
“Right.  Master Markov?” Andrews looked up to the man in the white robe.   
  
“Take your leave.  Once you’ve seen Sister Wane, do take him to instruction Brother Andrews.  I dare say he’ll surprise us yet.” Master Markov chuckled to himself and Stiles had the distinct impression that it wasn’t an often heard sound.   
  


***

  
  
Stiles wasn’t sure how big this place was, or even if every building and room he went through was a part of the same building.  Hell he was pretty sure that two of the rooms were in completely different seasons from where he’d come.  But eventually they came to a large room that seemed to have multiple floors within its tower.  There were several naked people laying or sitting around with their feet in pots.   
  
“You guys aren’t big on privacy are you?” Stiles blushed as he tried not to look at the naked people.  It was strange going from a world that shunned nudity but craved it in the dark, to a world where they didn’t seem to care who saw them naked.  He wondered if he stayed here long enough if he’d develop that level of confidence.  Because starring at some of these guys he could see why they didn’t care.  And there went his blushing again, damn it.  He was so lost in his head he didn’t notice Andrews stop in front of him and nearly toppled the pair of them over.   
  
“Is nudity… not something you are used to?” Andrews looked at him.   
  
“Where I’m from its sort of taboo when it shouldn’t be.”   
  
“Odd.” Andrews shrugged but turned as a long blonde haired woman with electric blue tribal markings all over her body walked up to them.   
  
“So what’s the problem today?” She crossed her bare arms and looked at Andrews.   
  
“He’s a word smith who got stuck in our world…” Andrews blushed.   
  
“Right… and he’s in my medical lab why?” She turned her lavender eyes on Stiles and he had no trouble thinking of her as a harsh task mistress.   
  
“I have a medical condition…”   
  
“Which one.”   
  
“Adhd.”   
  
“I’ve never heard of that.” She paused before picking up a pad.  “What are the symptoms?”   
  
“Hyper activity, disruptive behavior, inability to focus, racing mind, too much energy, inability to stay still for long periods of time, and…”   
  
“Okay, I have seen this before.” She nodded.  “Strip and get in a pot.”   
  
“I’m sorry.”   
  
“STRIP.” Her voice echoed as Stiles’ clothing simply flew off of him and hung up over a nearby empty bed.   
  
“Personal privacy much!?” Stiles covered himself.   
  
“Your world must have some odd rules about public nudity.” She shrugged and pointed him to a large pot of mud.   
  
“And you want me to….?”   
  
“Stand in it.”   
  
“Right… because that’ll cure my problem؟” Stiles rolled his eyes as he got into the mud.   
  
“Sarcasm isn’t helpful here.” She drew complex symbols in the mud with her fingers before she stepped back.  “I assume where you’re from they have a medication to treat this?”   
  
“Yeah.  I’ve just run out and that’s after skipping dosages so I could make it last.”   
  
“We grow the medication that each patient needs.” She raised a hand that was almost entirely blue from a runic tattoo.  “Tot’kapara.” Her hand glowed as the mud at Stiles’ calves began to churn.  He watched as the magic caused a kind of purple grass to spread throughout the pot he was standing in before it was full every where he wasn’t standing, with the purple grass.  “Help him out Andrews.” It took both of them and both his hands to get fully out of the pot, leaving him standing there all together naked and exposed.  He was also quite covered in mud.  But he was more interested watching Sister Wane fill the rest of the pot with the strange grass before taking a sample into a smaller pot. “I’ll have some sent up to your room when it’s ready.  You’ll need to add it to a cup of boiling water once a day and it should treat the symptoms.”   
  
“So… tea.. I have to warn you, caffeine is bad for my condition.”   
  
“I doubt it would be caffeinated.  But it should be helpful to your issues.” She shook her head.  “The shower is over there.” She pointed to the dip in the floor where there was a large wooden beam and a leather pull rope attached to it.  Great, no privacy for that either.  Things were just coming up Stiles everywhere today.  Stiles trudged over, leaving muddy foot prints behind, stepped into the indented part of the floor and pulled on the leather rope.  A warm stream of water spilled down his body and it was perhaps the best thing he’d felt in ages.  His bones didn’t hurt as bad from weeks of sleeping on the cold ground.  He didn’t feel as bone tired as he had for days now.  He simply stood there and bathed, aware people could see him and some were watching.  Frankly he stopped caring right around the time he felt the rising swell of his larger organ from the attention and the warmth.  He blushed slightly when Andrews cleared his throat.   
  
“Nudity’s fine but masturbation you frown on?” Stiles raised a brow as he got out and dried off.   
  
“No.  He just doesn’t want to waste my healing waters on your pleasure.  By all means masturbate to your heart’s content.  I recommend it for everyone who isn’t or is having sex with other partners.”   
  
“Lovely.” Stiles smiled.  “I’d just like a little more privacy for that.”   
  
“Really؟” She snorted.  “Take him on to his chambers.” She waved them off as she collected the grass for him.   
  
“Thank you.”   
  
“You’re welcome young one.”   
  
“Young one?”   
  
“Our term for those just beginning their walk with in these walls.” Andrews answered him as he collected Stiles’ clothing and guided him through the halls.   
  
“Oh.  Is there some sort of placement test or do I start from the beginning?”   
  
“We will test your strength and give you the basics you may not have learned in our magics.”   
  
“Great.  I’m ready to get my Harry Potter on up in here.  You know.. once I’ve had some alone time and got clothes on again.”   
  
“I understand.” Andrews nodded then paused.  “Who’s Harry Potter?”


	3. The House of Ib

Derek huffed.  He’d been stuck in this place for weeks running and catching what game he could.  He’d shifted once at the full moon and it’d taken him almost a week to track down where he’d left his clothing.  There was something freeing about being here… in this place… and the nudity seemed to make it more powerful.  He’d taken to using his shirt as a pouch and carrying his clothing in that pouch strapped around him by his belt.  It was just… natural to run naked through the forests.   
  
He was coming up to the crest of a mountain, hoping to get a better lay of the land and catch a scent of Stiles.  Nothing in all this time.  Some garbled gibberish spells and a burning sensation in the now half gone tattoo had let him know Stiles was here and that the magic worked weird here.  But he wasn’t sure what was what with that.  He just knew he needed to get a higher point to try to see or smell Stiles.  He came up over the rise of dirt to stand in the small forest land at this level of the mountain and look out across a large area.  He wasn’t sure how big this world was, but he was pretty sure it was a lot bigger then he’d hoped it was.   
  
“Are you crazy….?” A voice hissed from the trees.   
  
“What?” Derek looked around.   
  
“You’re standing out in the open.” The voice replied.   
  
“Yeah… and?”   
  
“They’ll see you.”   
  
“Who will?”   
  
“Can’t you hear it?” The voice hissed again and Derek listened.  He could hear what sounded like a ringing in the distance but it also had the faint sound that magic always seemed to bring.   
  
“Someone with magic is teleporting.  It might be my friend…”   
  
“I doubt it…” The voice was going still.  He feared who ever might be teleporting here.  Derek pulled out his boxers and pulled them on.  He was pretty sure if someone was teleporting to him it was Stiles and he wouldn’t want to see him naked.  Not… not now at least. He sighed to himself as he waited.  But as the sound grew to nearly a deafening cry, seven bursts of pure light exploded around him before he was suddenly standing before seven radiant beings of pure light, each wearing obsidian armor with radiant alabaster cloth hangings from their resplendent forms.   
  
“What are you?”   
  
“VEL-WEVLT!” One of the yelled and pointed at him.   
  
“I don’t…” Derek started but yelled as a blast of light came from their spear tips and threw him against the nearest wall like structure.  “Fuck.” Derek panted.  “What the hell are you people?”   
  
“VESH-NO’TARA!” Another yelled and Derek blocked the blasts this time.    
  
“You know I get the sense you don’t know what the hell I’m saying anymore then I know what you’re saying.”   
  
“They’re demons… they don’t understand you.” The voice spoke from its hiding spot and the creatures turned towards it.   
  
“crap.” Derek charged and grappled with one and threw him into the next.  Drawing their attention back to him as his hidden companion, a very naked man, came charging out and transformed mid way through the air to his beta form and attacked with fangs and claws at the other one.   
  
“VAGA-NOR’LAL!” They seemed to regroup and prepared to attack but Derek grabbed one of their staffs from them and pointed it at them.  They stopped, confused.   
  
  
  
“Now… what was it you said to make this thing fire at me?” He pointed at them.  “Vel-wevlt or something.” The blast shattered the armor of one of the beings but the blast arched funny and exploded, cracking the spear in Derek’s hand.  “Right… don’t say extra words when doing magic.”   
  
“You can do magic?!?”   
  
“No… yes… sort of.” Derek threw the spear at them but they gathered their fallen comrade and vanished in a ball of light.  “Okay… first… WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE…”   
  
“Welcome to the outer sphere.” He stood up and wiped his mouth.   
  
“The outer sphere?”   
  
“Not from around here huh.” He chuckled.  “This is the outer sphere.”   
  
“Great…” Derek winced as he fell to his knees.   
  
“Crap.  They got you good.”   
  
“Stiles…”   
  
“Your friend that does magic?”   
  
“Yeah…”   
  
“I’ll keep an eye out for him on the way to the tower.” The stranger scooped Derek up and he could smell the wolf on him.   
  


***

  
  
Derek slowly came to, his clothing laid out beside him in the simple chamber he was in, the door propped open he looked around.   
  
“Sorry for the shock of being inside, but we don’t get a lot of new arrivals.” The man from before was sitting, dressed, next to Derek’s bed.   
  
“New arrivals?”   
  
“It’s not every day a wolf you don’t know shows up in our territory.” His eyes flashed red.  “Which pack are you from?”   
  
“The McCall pack.”   
  
“Not familiar.  Are they affiliated with House of Ib?”   
  
“Since I’ve never heard of the House of Ib, I’m going to say no.” Derek slowly got dressed.   
  
“Where are you from?”   
  
“Beacon Hills.”   
  
“Not familiar with it.” The man shook his head.  “I’m Ronan, I’m the alpha in charge of this branch of the House of Ib.”   
  
“So… you called this place the outer sphere?”   
  
“That’s what we were taught to call it when we were children by people who were taught to call it that when they were children and so on… going back as far as the oldest records we’ve found.”   
  
“Great.” Derek sighed as he pulled his shirt over his head.  “Any sign of my friend?”   
  
“No.  The demons of light were swarming the area pretty hard.  It’s not often one of us has the ability to do a flickering of magic.  Let alone touch their weapons and use them… how’d you know the spell?”   
  
“I didn’t.  I heard them say something and the spell happened, I know from Stiles saying spells that words are often a part of it.  So I tried.  I just…. Screwed up adding more stuff to the spell.”   
  
“That why it went… wrong?”   
  
“That’d be my guess.  I’ve never had a touch of magic in me before Stiles gave me this.” He held up his arm showing the tattoo.   
  
“What’s that do?”   
  
“It links us… it’s why we’re here.  He was doing a spell on this helmet… and it was going good till I talked over him, not realizing that my talking with this tattoo meant I was adding to the spell…”   
  
“Ah.  Well I’m sorry you came here friend.”   
  
“Why?”   
  
“You have the misfortune of being a wolf… a born wolf by the stance of you.”   
  
“Yeah…”   
  
“As are most of the people here.” Ronan nodded to the various people walking past Derek’s room.   
  
“Really… this many born wolves in one place?”   
  
“Our world is divided into two species.  The wolves and the demons.”   
  
“What are the demons?”   
  
“We call them the demons of light.  No one’s for sure who or what they were before the war started.  But as far back as anyone remembers we’ve been in an endless war between our two races.”   
  
“So you don’t have any bitten wolves?”   
  
“One or two.  Once in a while a child is born human but we keep them protected till they’re of age and the timing is right to make sure they transition without dying on us.” Ronan nodded.   
  
“If Stiles came across those demons, I doubt they’d survive.” Derek smiled sadly.   
  
“What makes you think that?”   
  
“He’s taken down a lot of supernatural creatures.  And when he’s mad enough he’s done magic to take me down.”   
  
“I hear a note of pride in that?” Ronan frowned.   
  
“Yeah.” Derek chuckled.   
  
“Are you two… more than friends?”   
  
“Not yet.  Maybe never.” Derek shrugged.   
  
“Oh?”   
  
“I’ve known him too long…”   
  
“How long is too long?”   
  
“I’ve known him since he was sixteen…”   
  
“And how many years older than him are you?”   
  
“I’m almost nine years older than him.” Derek laid back and sighed.   
  
“That’s not so bad.”   
  
“I’m also a werewolf.”   
  
“And he’s a mage of some sort?”   
  
“Our pack’s emissary.”   
  
“Emissary?”   
  
“The druid that grounds us to the world.” Derek frowned.  “Do you not have that here?”   
  
“We don’t have druids here… not in as long as I have been alive.”   
  
“Really?  How’d you’re people manage to make the shift without Druids?”   
  
“The demons helped us.” Ronan looked out at the hall.   
  
“How’s that work?” Derek frowned.   
  
“We used to have peace a long time ago.  But not in a long time.  This world hasn’t known peace in living memory.” Ronan clapped his hand on Derek’s shoulder.  “But we’ve gotten off topic.  You were telling me about Stiles.” He smiled as Derek blushed.   
  
“I had hoped you wouldn’t notice… or you’d leave it alone.”   
  
“You kidding, you’re the first outsider in probably seventy generations; everyone is going to want to know every aspect of your life.  The fact that you also like men, and happen to be connected to a druid, the first that we know about in our world, yeah I’m pretty sure everyone is going to want to know everything about you.”   
  
“Great…”   
  
“Not the chatty type?”   
  
“How’d you guess?”   
  
“It’s okay.” Ronan laughed.  “Not everyone is a talker.” Ronan shrugged.  “I am.”   
  
“I’ve noticed…” Derek smiled.   
  
“So… we’ll talk about… Stiles… later.  How about I just give you a run down about the state of the world for now?”   
  
“Sounds like a plan.” Derek nodded, standing as Ronan did and walking through the hallways towards a deeper part of the citadel.   
  
“We’ve been fighting to survive since the day the ability to speak the same language was stripped away from us.  This world… is divided between the Lycans and the Demons.  We maintain a deputed territory in the midst of our two lands.  We’ve been calling it the front line.  A no man’s land of death and carnage.  Two guesses where you landed in the middle of.” Ronan smirked.   
  
“Great…” Derek sighed.   
  
“The house of Ib is one of the fallen magic towers that once belonged to the Demons.  The few of us with any talent for magic were able to turn it back on enough to sustain us.”   
  
“Turn the house back on…”   
  
“The stones are held in place by powerful spells.  But if you know where to go, there are gargoyles that dispense food, water, medicines.  All of it powered by magic.  At the heart of every House is a giant stone heart that is covered in layers of magic that are beyond my understanding.  I just know it took a lot of magic to turn that thing back on and once it was turned on… it started producing food and supplies to keep us alive.  The armory… takes entirely too much magic… so we’ve never managed to turn it back on.”   
  
“Right… or you’d have a host of weapons build up that your people can barely touch let alone use.”   
  
“We had hoped we could change the settings and give ourselves actual weapons… but again… we don’t speak the language of this place.  We’re mainly squatters.”   
  
“If Stiles was here he’d probably have it started in no time…” Derek looked down at his tattoo.  “huh….”   
  
“What?” Ronan looked at him.   
  
“I have an idea.”   
  
“Oh?”   
  
“Where’s the heart?” Ronan smiled as he guided Derek silently through the maze like corridors of the inner most sanctum of the House till they were standing at a set of twenty foot doors made of carved stone that Derek couldn’t identify.  But as he walked towards it, the rune on his arm began to light the area, the runes on the doors responding in kind.   
  
“It’s never done that before…” Ronan glanced at Derek.   
  
“Let’s see what happens next…” Derek touched the door with that arm and the tattoo almost burned as the door opened.  The room was entirely square and smooth, not a single symbol on anything except in the dead center of the room, floating above a stone circle was a giant anatomically correct looking heart, every inch of it covered in runes that Derek had never seen before.  A couple he could pick out as stuff he’d seen Stiles use but most of it was so far beyond him that he couldn’t begin to understand what they were form.   
  
“What’s your plan…?”   
  
“Magic is simple… or at least it is with this.” Derek nodded to his tattoo.  “ON!” He raised his hand towards the heart and felt it burn as the stone heart began to glow with an inner fire.   
  
“I….” Ronan shielded his eyes.   
  
“ALL THE WAY ON!” Derek yelled, throwing as much of his own strength into the make shift spell as he could manage.  The tattoo turned pure white, burning his arm around it in ripple patterns out from the shape.   
  


***

  
  
“Wha… OW…” Stiles looked down at his white hot tattoo.  “The fuck are you doing Derek.” He touched it and he had a sense of Derek, in a House, under a heart of stone.  Stiles reached out to him, and for one brief moment the two of them were one being.  One will in two bodies half way across the world from one another.  In their joined state they saw one another for who and what they were and what they meant to one another.  And in that moment Stiles felt how much they missed one another, a and whispered a single word.  “now.”   
  


***

  
  
Derek woke up laying naked on a stone bed as a thin and slight beta was tending to his wounds.  The burns on his arm and hands were bad.  Most would heal.  But some of the scares around the rune were aged by magic and would never heal quite right.  Even when the rune was faded after their connection eventually broke, Derek would wear a permanent scar in the shape of Stiles’ rune on his arm.  He looked up from that to the male healer tending to him.   
  
“How long have I been out?”   
  
“a couple days.” His eyes were kept low.   
  
“Where’s Ronan?”   
  
“He is currently in the office… trying to make sense of everything that happened after you turned the heart on.”   
  
“What happened?”   
  
“Besides weapons spilling out of the armory… and a lot of things turning on that we didn’t know where here… there’s something making it hard for us to find just where the house is now.”   
  
“is… now?” Derek frowned.   
  
“The house is a lot of places at once… and it makes it hard to figure out where exactly it is.  We had refugees from several weeks journey away from here… that walked through a door because they thought they were going into their own safe house and wound up here.”   
  
“That I’ve seen before.” Derek nodded.  “Stiles did that sort of thing a few years back when his jeep was in the shop and he got tired of waiting on rides and walking everywhere.  He just made a door that opened where he wanted it to.  Must be something similar… where they hiding in a broken tower?”   
  
“most of our safe houses are ruins and broken things…” The beta never looked Derek in the eye.   
  
“Why aren’t you looking me in the eye?” Derek sniffed about him.   
  
“I’m trying not to be rude…”   
  
“Rude?”   
  
“I’m soon to go into my heat… and it’s likely this time I might catch… and… I…” His eyes betrayed him as they drifted up Derek’s muscular body.   
  
“I understand.  If I’m still here I’d be glad to help out another wolf.”   
  
“R-really?” The wolf looked him in the eyes.   
  
“Sure.”   
  
“What about your mate?”   
  
“We’re not… I’m not.. I…” Derek sighed.  “We’re not together right now.”   
  
“so he’ll be okay?”   
  
“I think so.  I’ll have to explain it to him after we’re home.”   
  
“Home?”   
  
“After we leave this place.  Because we won’t be staying here forever.” Derek patted the beta on the shoulder when his shoulders slumped.  “I have to find him and get home.  I have a pack that I was mentoring and he’s our magical protection.” Derek knew better then to call Stiles what he was now, he didn’t want to confuse this boy.  This sweet innocent willowy boy who was all but begging Derek to take him hard against the nearest object soon, this boy who looked entirely too much like Stiles for Derek’s senses.   
  
“Oh…”   
  
“How soon is your heat?”


	4. Way Station 47

“Damn.” Stiles flexed his arm.   
  
“Still bugging you?” Sister Wane looked over at Stiles.   
  
“The cream helped, thank you… but a few days rest and my magic is almost back to where it should be.” Stiles sighed, glancing at his spell book.  “How do you guys remember all this?”   
  
“Years of practice.” She smiled as she bandaged his arm again.   
  
“I suppose…” Stiles sighed.   
  
“Any clue what he used your magic for?” She looked up into Stiles’ eyes.   
  
“Not a clue.” Thankfully he was an accomplished liar when it came to such things, not even there strange magics could read him.  Something that confounded them, and had lead to them simply assuming Stiles told the truth all the time.  A bad assumption, but he wasn’t about to correct them.  It was playing too well into his favor.  He knew exactly what Derek had done.  He’d activated the heart of one of the towers.  He’d event noticed on the map that some of the towers were moving around because of it.  And there was even a tower located in the demon territory but he couldn’t find a way to go there or send a message there.  It was a different house to the House of Wards, and wholly isolated from this house.   
  
He’d been training as hard as he could since getting here to learn the basic spells, chief among them the navigation spells to get where you actually wanted to go in this place.  But while he can travel the inner workings of the house now, he just wanted to get outside privileges so he could start to look for Derek.   
  
“Well you should be good to go.” She smiled.   
  
“Thanks.” Stiles hopped down and gathered up his things.   
  
“You psyched for your testing?”   
  
“Testing?” Stiles turned to look at her.   
  
“Yeah, you were put in the kessil group…. They didn’t tell you?”   
  
“Kessil group?”   
  
“For the love of the ancients… you’ve been here long enough that and working hard enough that they put you in with the next group to be tested to see if they’re ready to go out to the front lines.” Sister Wane sighed.  “They should have told you this ages ago.”   
  
“First I’ve heard of it.”   
  
“The test is in a couple days…” She bit her lip.   
  
“I think I’ll go to the library.” Stiles nodded stiffly and walked off towards the library, using the silent spell to travel to the massive library that seemed to go on seemingly forever in all directions.  It wasn’t nearly as large as it appeared to be, it couldn’t be… could it? Stiles wasn’t entirely sure, but he could taste the magic heavy on the air here.  He walked to the nearest stair well and went down to the lower level.  “I can’t live in here for a few days…” Stiles sighed, looking at the section he’d moved into where it was mostly the beginner level spells that he’d had to learn for the basics of their magic system.   
  
“I wish…” Stiles stopped, his eyes going to his cell phone.  He’d figured out a spell to charge it… surely he could do this too.  After all the sd card on his phone could hold millions of books.  He just needed a spell to convert the information in the books around him into digital copies.  Stiles made the sign with his fingers that he’d learned here to end a spell before the power got allocated for it.  Sighing to himself he started again.   
  
“Wealth of knowledge round about, from page to page, cover to cover, I request a copy of all that you hold, to this storage device that I make bold.  As data to read and reference I make thee now, from pages of parchment I don’t know how.” He held his breath as he looked around him.  Instantly he felt the burn in his tattoo and winced.  Crap the spell was echoing in Derek… hopefully he was near that house’s books…  Stiles dropped to his knees.  Fuck…   
  
“Stiles?” Andrews was rushing to where Stiles was panting.  In truth most of the house was rushing to Stiles.  His spell had caused every book in the entire extended House of Wards to glow.  A faint ghost of the ink on the page to lift up and wind its way through the house to Stiles and his phone.   
  
“Andrews what’s going on?”   
  
“I think he preformed a spell…” Andrews bit his lip.   
  
“I can see that, which one?”   
  
“The boy’s a word smith… one of his own creation I’m guessing…” Andrews looked around, and then blinked as pages of lettering began to pour out of Stiles’ tattoo and flow to the stream of them flooding into his phone.   “Stiles what did you do?!”   
  
“Needed to make the library more mobile…”   
  
“And how did you…”   
  
“There’s a piece of tech in my phone… it lets me hold millions upon millions of books in the phone that I can read on there.  I thought… if I could copy every book in the library…”   
  
“I think you either worded it wrong or put too much power into it…” Andrew watched the streams of glowing symbols.   
  
“I left it too open… and Derek….”   
  
“He’s near books too?”   
  
“Yeah… not sure where or how many… but they’re being dragged through him into me and out of me into the sd card…”   
  
“Can you stop it?”   
  
“Not till it’s done…” Stiles went limp in Andrews’ arms.   
  
“Can you…”   
  
“It’s almost done…” Stiles had a weak grip on Andrews’ wrist.  “Just… need … to … hang on…” Stiles bit his lip, the blood running down his chin as he cried out, the magic arching and for a split second Stiles could see it all.  Every inch of this world, every spell that made it up, all the magic that lay between him and Derek’s positions, the hidden libraries, the defunct houses, the rotting tomes in forgotten places… all of it.  And in that second he realized just how valuable his cell phone had become.  Because it wasn’t just the spells in this library or the house that Derek was in, it was every spell in a direct line between them.  The unseen space between them was saturated with hundreds of thousands of years of spells being cast, not to mention defunct houses that lay ripe for the plundering.  Stiles forced it out of him and into the stream going into the sd card.  If it contained some maps, he wasn’t going to complain.  He’d need them later.  For now, staying sane was his primary goal.   
  
Stiles was all but curled in Andrews’ arms when the spell finally finishes.  He reaches out and Andrews hands him the phone.  It’s got a status bar on a background swirling with symbols.  Stiles chuckled.   
  
“What is it?”   
  
“It’s updating the software… apparently I gave it a lot to think about…”   
  
“I should imagine so.  Can you stand?”   
  
“Let’s see?” Stiles tried to stand and fell back against Andrews.   
  
“Right, medical or your chamber?”   
  
“Chamber.  Wane’s going to think I’m doing things on purpose if I show up there again today…”   
  
“I’m pretty sure she’s aware you like men.”   
  
“I like a man.  Till him I was pretty sure I was only ever going to date girls.” Stiles gave a smile.   
  
“Oh?”   
  
“Yeah.  Lydia Martin, smart, strong, creative, and spent entirely too much time trying to hide that she was the smartest person in the area.”   
  
“Smart women and a fighter for the one man you’ve found attractive… I’d say you like strong personalities in your mates…” Andrews smiled as they walked at a slow pace to accommodate Stiles’ weakened state.   
  
“You’re not wrong.” Stiles smiled softly.  “I’ll have some explaining to do when I get home.  Lydia’s not likely to be happy.”   
  
“But I thought you were with Derek?”   
  
“Not yet… and I’m not _with_ Lydia.  She just… she doesn’t like things… or people… she thinks are her’s being lost or hurt without her permission.” Stiles got the distinct impression that he wasn’t given Lydia a good impression in this world.   
  
“She sounds interesting.”   
  
“Complicated is more like it.  But it’s one of the things I liked about her.”   
  
“Liked?”   
  
“The Derek thing utterly blindsided me.  I just wasn’t expecting to fall in love with him, and I certainly didn’t expect him to feel the same back….”   
  
“Sounds… complicated.”   
  
“Yeah.  But it wouldn’t be my life if it wasn’t complicated and fully of deadly things wanting to eat me alive.” Stiles shrugged as he slipped off of Andrews and onto his bed.   
  
“So… you’re spell?”   
  
“Yeah… am I in trouble?”   
  
“Master Markov might want to see you….” Andrews bit his lip.   
  
“Right…” Stiles sighed heavily as he hung his head, only to snap up when he heard an alert chime and pulled his phone out of his pocket to reveal it was finished.  “Cool… let’s see what we’ve got.” Stiles went to his main screen where there was single book icon off to the side with the title Libro.  Shrugging he tapped it and nearly jumped as a large display of images was projected out around him.   
  
“I take it it’s not supposed to do this?”   
  
“Phones don’t do this…” Stiles reached out and moved some of the projected bits around.  “Moveable and tactile responsive holograms aren’t something we even remotely have back home…” Stiles frowned as he flipped through things.  He stopped on a page containing the spell for the movement through the house.  But instantly data points started popping up around the page indicating links to hundreds of other spells.  “Wait… is this…” He clicked on the author’s link and found a list of spells that person had created.   
  
“No one knows who wrote the art of movement spell…”   
  
“Apparently my spell analyzed the patterns and attributed it to an author.” Stiles shrugged.  “It’s like a giant reference library… online… but on my phone…” Stiles sat back.  “I some how invented the internet here… okay…” Stiles shook his head and started going through the spells.   
  
“Inter… net?”   
  
“Our term for databases of interconnected devices that allow us near instant access to searchable knowledge from all around the planet at the touch of a button.  A couple years ago the United Nations decided access to it was a human right.”   
  
“You say words sometimes as if they have meaning…” Andrew smiled at him.   
  
“You know I get that a lot.” Stiles chuckled.  “Huh… there’s a more advanced version of this spell called the art of moving objects.”   
  
“A summoning spell.” Andrews nodded.   
  
“no…” Stiles read through the spell.  “If I’m understanding this… it’s a spell for moving bigger objects through the space of the houses….”   
  
“There’s no such spell.  At least not in our library…”   
  
“Every spell book between Derek’s location and mine in our library was downloaded into this.  One of them must have contained the spell.”   
  
“Can you make… copies of this?”   
  
“Maybe.  I can try anyways.  Not right this second because… BIG magics and all.  But… I can try.”   
  
“You’re going to try to move something aren’t you?” Andrews crossed his arms.   
  
“Yeah.” Stiles smiled.   
  
“Do I want to know?”   
  
“Probably not.” Stiles grinned.   
  
“Right… I’ll wait in the hall just in case you need someone to help you down to see Wane.”   
  
“Thanks.” Stiles said as his chamber door shut.   
  
“Okay… let’s try for something small….”   
  


***

  
  
Stiles was waiting in the testing chamber with the other kessil group members; most of them males around his age.  The room itself was a large gym style chamber that had Master Markov and other teachers sitting on a dais watching the students.   
  
“So… how’s this work?” Stiles leaned over to one of the guys who was sitting there dressed in robes.  He’d been told to wear the clothes he preferred to wear while casting and a robe over that.  He’d dressed in his clothes he’d came to this world in, a set of jeans and a casual shirt.  He’d been casting when he arrived, and he liked to be comfy while casting.  So it only made sense.  But now he was starting to have doubts as he looked at those around him.   
  
“They’ll call us up and want displays of power to see if you’ve mastered the spells needed to earn a rank.”   
  
“Rank?”   
  
“In the military… so we can fight in the war.” The guy looked at Stiles like he’d lost his mind.   
  
“Right… I’m more just looking to be allowed outside.”   
  
“Yeah… the war.” The guy shook his head at Stiles.   
  
“Right… never mind then.” Stiles sat back and sighed.   
  
“Luca.” Master Markov called out.  A tall boy in the front stood up and dropped his robes revealing he was wearing a goat mask and a kind of kilt.  Stiles wondered if he was way over dressed or something.  And Luca moved to the front and stood in front of the teachers.   
  
“I’m told you have a specialty?” The Elder of the house spoke from behind Master Markov.   
  
“Yes sir.” Luca bowed; his voice thick with an accent that Stiles couldn’t place.   
  
“Please demonstrate it.”  Luca stood and spoke softly.   
  
“Antenshera.” Stiles could feel the magic in the room shift and pitch around the boy as his body seemed to cover in written tattoos that flowed over his body.  It was a chained spell, Stiles knew that much.  It seemed to draw on various aspects of animals to augment Luca’s abilities.  Sort of like a near lycanthrope spell.  The written spells flowing around and around Luca’s bared flesh, he jumped impossibly high into the air and clung to the ceiling by his finger tips before jumping back down, claws and fangs bared before landing in a crouch and moving like he had bones in places he shouldn’t have, moving much too gracefully to be human before returning to normal and standing up.   
  
“Animal essence channeling suits you Luca.” The Elder smiled and nodded.   
  
“You pass.” Markov sighed and waved Luca away, who took his robe and went to the balcony to watch the others.  “Zelth.” A slender figure stood up and dropped his robes revealing a fully naked blonde boy wearing nothing but a small amulet.  “You’ve received top marks in your healing skills.  Wane speaks highly of you.”   
  
“Thank you sir.” Zelth bowed.   
  
“We’re ready to award you the position of group healer, but we need to see some of your combat magics before we pass you.”   
  
“Yes sir.” Zelth nodded.  “Vortin Salgaa” He intoned as he crossed his arms, raking his finger nails down his arms and making strips of blood he stopped before he got to the wrists.  Pulling back he hung his head and instead of dripping down his hanging arms, the blood seemed to spread across his skin.  In seconds he was encased in a blood red armor that seemed to shroud everything about him and give him claws and fangs to his new form.   
  
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen a full blood enclosure spell.” The Elder spoke.  “Are you able to do it with the blood of others?” Zelth nodded.  “Interesting.  I will not ask for a demonstration today.” He waved his wrinkled hand and Zelth was suddenly standing there as if he hadn’t been coated in blood head to toe, with no marks on his body.  Impressive.  That sort of healing at the end of that kind of spell was something that could mean the difference between living after a fight and being a bloodless corpse.   
  
“You pass.” Markov nodded and Zelth picked up his robe and walked on.  “Gar.”   
  
‘please don’t be naked please don’t be naked please don’t be naked….’ Stiles thought to himself as a boy about his height stood up and dropped his robes to reveal he was wearing a white costume that was very close to skin tight.  The shirt was like a tank top almost, but the pants were almost more a harem style pants than anything Stiles had seen here.  Gar’s hair was like crystallized amber in color, and seemed to flow as he walked up front.  It was cut short but had a slight wave to it.  Stiles figured it’d be way more wavy if he ever let it grow out, but maybe that’s why he kept it cut so short.   
  
“Your records indicate you prefer fire magic?”   
  
“Yes sir.” Gar nodded.   
  
“Offensive or defensive?”   
  
“Both sir.” Gar stood at attention.   
  
“Really?” Markov scoffed. “Really, sir.” Gar looked up at him.   
  
“You’ll forgive my skepticism.” Markov gave a dark look.   
  
“Yes sir.” Gar looked down.   
  
“We’ll let you prove yourself with a freeform demonstration.”   
  
“Thank you sir.” Gar nodded, he walked away from everyone.  “Fla’gorma” His hands ignited in flames.  “Con’fla’mara” His eyes seemed to glow from the inside with an inner flame as the fire in his hands sank into to his flesh, lifting him in the air as his voice shook with power.  “VES’A’TORI NOGA’NOR…” Waves of heat and power poured off of him, surrounding him in a heat haze as fire began to form below him and spread out.  “ **VOG’MA**!” His voice was like a terrible crack of thunder.   
  
“Nox’asende.” The Elder stood up and waved a hand, the fire and light pouring off of Gar winked out in the blink of an eye.  “I trust that he has proven himself to you, Master Markov.” The Elder put a very firm hand on Markov’s shoulder.   
  
“Yes Elder Frey.” Markov coughed and waved at a confused Gar.  “You passed, you passed.” His eyes seemed to be on the verge of watering as the Elder held on to him before finally letting go.   
  
“Stiles, if you would.” The Elder sat down, letting Markov go.  Stiles wasn’t sure exactly what had just happened, but he was pretty sure Elder Frey had some major issues with Markov that had just been put on display to partially punish Markov and remind him who was in charge here.   
  
“Yes sir.” Stiles stood up and dropped his robe revealing his sneakers, jeans, and t shirt.  He moved forwards and stood waiting.  “What do you wish to see sir?”   
  
“We have all seen some of your… own creations.” The Elder smiled.   
  
“That’s…. kind.” Stiles blushed.   
  
“Quite.” Markov shot Stiles a glare.   
  
“But, I’m told your recent trip to the library yielded… some unforeseen consequences?” The Elder ignored Markov who had gone quite silent.   
  
“Yes sir.  I started going through the books I copied and discovered a book of movements written by the same author who wrote the movement spell we use to navigate the houses.”   
  
“Interesting.  Who, pray tell, is responsible for writing the spell, if you don’t mind me asking?”   
  
“Novice Marna.”   
  
“Aw.  I have read some of her later works… I can see some of the similarities…” Elder Frey nodded.  “I was wondering if you could show us some of the lost spells you have unearthed?”   
  
“Sure.” Stiles nodded, biting his lip and thinking for a moment.  “You’re all familiar with Nav’tol’me?” The Elder nodded as Markov made a dismissive sound.  “She wrote a stronger spell that doesn’t help you move where you want to go, it moves where you want to go to you.” Stiles walked a square space, making a black mark with his heel.   
  
“What are you doing?” Markov glared.   
  
“Limiting the radius of the spell.  Normally this is done to move an entire room around, and that seems… kind of counterproductive to everyone else being able to move around properly in the house.  So I’m only going to move part of the house around.”   
  
“I meant how are you making that black mark.”   
  
“Oh… the heel of my shoes are rubber, with pressure and friction on the right type of substances they leave a thin layer of that rubber on a predictable mark.  It’s a petty annoyance where I come from.  Here it helps create a grade three principal of reduction.”   
  
“Interesting… you’re not only limiting the range of the spell but also reshaping it as well?” Elder Frey smiled.   
  
“Essentially.” Stiles finished the square.  “Please pick a room?”   
  
“My office.” Master Markov growled lowly.   
  
“Okay.” Stiles stepped back.  “Met’nava’togas.” Stiles put his palms towards the space he’d marked off and pulled back the room shimmering into view and Markov’s desk and chairs, his carpet, and lighting from his office were suddenly in the space of the square.   
  
“A simple summoning spell?” Markov scoffed.   
  
“No.” Stiles walked into the area and then turned, vanishing entirely.   
  
“Where…?” Markov stood up.   
  
“Oh I’m still here, I just walked outside of the area I marked off, which is marked in your office as the boarder of what to me appears as a part of the gym.  I’ve switched the two locations and created a door between the two rooms right there.” Stiles walked back into the switched space holding Markov’s favorite staff he kept in his office.  “This spell allows you to literally move an entire room.  I could have put your office where the gym is supposed to be and the gym where your office should have been.  But again I figured that was counterproductive in house.”   
  
“Quite.” Markov glowered, as Stiles vanished back into his office to put the staff away and came back out to break the spell, pushing his hands towards it and snapping the gym back to the way it was supposed to be.   
  
“Most fascinating.” Elder Frey smiled.   
  
“Well if you think that’s something.  This next one’s really going to knock your socks off… not that you guys wear socks…” Stiles stepped back to where he’d left his mark on the floor.  “Rel’nava’exte.” Stiles moved his hands out towards the space and moved them in a counter clockwise manner, the space began to shimmer with heat haze.  “You know what’s funny?” Stiles looked up at them.  “None of you have noticed Gar’s not on the balcony with Luca and Zelth.” Everyone glanced up and frowned.  “In fact I’m betting none of you really remember him picking up his robe.  Do you?”   
  
“I don’t.” Elder Frey turned back to Stiles.   
  
“Have you noticed where I put this square?”   
  
“Right where he would have walked as he… Did you do something to him?”   
  
“Not exactly.  The spell I cast creates a kind of wrinkle in time that if you are focusing can open and capture things that were there before, I put this square right where Gar had to walk after picking up his robes, and as far as anyone knows he vanished after that.  Because he appeared here.” Gar suddenly walked out of the space, confused holding his robes.   
  
“You can make doors in time…” Elder Frey stood up.   
  
“Not exactly.  It not perfect, and the notes I have indicate that going backwards in time yourself is increasingly dangerous for every span of seven minutes back that you want to go.  But, opening a kind of trap that moves something from the past to the present isn’t dangerous to what’s being moved so long as you’re very VERY careful.  See if I’d been off and only taken part of him… there’d have been a very dead body falling out of the hole just now.” Gar turned and looked at him wide eyed.  “It’s why I was paying close attention to your steps and measured them out before I drew the square.  I wanted to make sure I got the exact location.  And I watched for the heat haze of time distortions to make sure I didn’t miss you.  If I did, I could correct it now.”   
  
“But wouldn’t that make a paradox?” Elder Frey frowned.   
  
“Yes and no.  I could have seen a failed example, and corrected it, and thus altered history so that I never saw a failed example so that what I saw was perfect and then achieved it just the same.  It wrinkles time a little.  And I’ll probably sleep extra hard tonight.  But it’s workable.”   
  
“Do I want to think about how you might have just murdered me and we don’t remember it?” Gar looked at him.   
  
“Probably not…” Stiles bit his lip.   
  
“Okay, I’m going to go up there now.” Gar shook his head and walked and joined the others up in the balcony.   
  
“As impressive as that is, I for one do not believe you have proven you can use any combat magic.” Markov scoffed.   
  
“Okay.” Stiles stretched.  “Vetta Saga’nal.” Stiles leapt into the air, a blade of pure magic formed around his hand as he cut through the wards around the dais and landed standing in front of Markov.  “Good enough for you?”   
  
“YOU UPSTART!” Markov started to gather energy and Stiles’ eyes flashed.   
  
“Rel’nava’caste Nox’asende.” Stiles spoke rapidly and over Markov, making the spell die on his lips and the power around them drop to zero.   
  
“You cast my spell.” Elder Frey blinked at him.   
  
“I augmented some notes on the past navigating spell to duplicate spells cast in the past in a given location.  You were touching Master Markov when you cast it, so I was hoping I could pull the effect into the future.”   
  
“You clearly pass.” Elder Frey clapped.  Stiles walked off the dais and picked his robe, bowing to the teachers and masters and the Elder.   
  
“Thank you Elder Frey.”   
  
“The boy attacked me and he used your magic… he….”   
  
“Let it go Master Markov.” Elder Frey gave him a dangerous look and Markov fell silent.   
  
“This way please.” Andrews was up in the balcony ushering the others and Stiles out of the room.   
  
“And I thought he hated me.” Gar smirked.   
  
“I mean… why does he hate me?”   
  
“You need a reason?” Luca tilted his head.   
  
“Well I like to know why.  I mean, is it because I move too much, I’m loud, I’m obnoxious, I’m too dangerous, too powerful, I can make my own spells… I like to at least know why people hate me.”   
  
“You get a lot of people hating you?” Zelth frowned.   
  
“No.  Most find me annoying or cute.” He shrugged.  “And I’m very popular with Drag Queens.”   
  
“Drag Queens?” Gar frowned.   
  
“Great group of people.  They’re mostly pretty awesome.  A Drag Queen is a guy who dresses as a woman, usually to great effect, and some sing, some perform, mostly their fabulous.”   
  
“Why do they dress as females?” Luca seemed to frown behind his mask.   
  
“Because it’s who they are deep down.”   
  
“I don’t understand…”   
  
“You wear a kilt for maximum exposure for your magics.  Zelth prefers being nude.  Where I’m from it’s taboo for most men to wear clothing like that because it’s see as a female thing to do.  And nudity is relegated to indoors or at safe places that are privately owned and are clothing optional.  But rarely do you have public nudist areas allowed.  But your kilt is apart of your magic, who you are and what you do as much as Zelth being nude is.  I wear what I’m comfy in.  Because I’m used to it and I like it.  Some people prefer to dress as the other gender.  I say let them.” Stiles shrugged.   
  
“People have issues with what other people wear?” Zelth frowned.   
  
“Oh yeah.  We’re a very judgy people.  It’s not one of our good aspects.  We’re getting better, but we’re dragging the rest of our people there kicking and screaming.”   
  
“You paint an interesting picture.” Gar shook his head.   
  
“You get used to it.” Andrews chuckled.   
  


***

  
  
“Okay, Kessil Group, this is the door that will take you to your stationed outpost.” Andrews stood before a door with a complicated rune lock on the top of it.  “You are being given Way Station 47.  It was part of another house that has long since gone dormant, but we’re attempting to take that way station back from the demons.  Your task is to take it and hold that Way Station.  If you are capable, activate the Way Station defenses.” Andrews looked at Stiles.  Stiles had a feeling he knew what had happened with Derek and wasn’t telling anyone, and for that he was thankful before they went back to looking at the door.   
  
“How are we supposed to activate a Way Station….” Gar frowned.   
  
“That was more to me.” Everyone looked at Stiles.  “I’m a word smith.  If any of us is supposed to have the power to jump start a Way Station they’re hoping I do.”   
  
“Yes.” Andrews nodded.   
  
“That seems like a leap…” Luca turned to Stiles.   
  
“It’s complicated.” Stiles gave him a look.   
  
“That I believe.” Luca nodded and turned back to Andrews.   
  
“We have given you spell lances, and all the supplies we can spare for this duty.  Once you are through the gateway, you are on your own.  You only have each other and what you can find and activate at the Way Station to supply yourself with.”   
  
“What do we know about the layout of the Way Station?” Luca seemed to get more serious.   
  
“The last scans of the area showed that the outer walls and the cloister were breached, and that they were likely to have broken the seal on the Way Station itself.” Andrews shook his head.   
  
“You have a map I can copy?” Stiles held up his phone.   
  
“I… yes.” Andrews held up the map.   
  
“To me make known.” Stiles held up his hand with the phone between him and the map and the map seemed to shimmer before his phone chimed.  “Okay.  I’ll have a map once we get through, I can use spells on it to give us an active feed of whose where.” Stiles turned to Luca, who was their de facto leader.   
  
“Okay.  That’ll help us get a sense of what’s going on on the ground.” Luca nodded.   
  
“Be prepared.” Andrews stepped back.  “Ech’nae’shonum.” The stone archway filled with a blue white light.  “Hurry, these connections are difficult to maintain at this distance.”  The team filed through quickly.   
  
“Thanks.” Stiles hugged Andrews.   
  
“Just don’t die out there.”   
  
“I’ll try?” Stiles smiled as he ran through the portal and tapped the app he’d already had his finger on when he went through the doorway so that he could open the map and with a few quick hand movements had it projected in the middle of their huddle.  “Point me.” Stiles appeared on the map.  “This circle is this place; show me all who are within its walls.” He quickly drew a circle with his finger, the holographic image accepting the added line as the spell mixed with the magic he’d installed on the phone.  Their team was indicated and that was it.   
  
“What do you know?” Luca asked.   
  
“We’re the only things alive in here.  We need to go somewhere more secure where I can set up a better map so that it’ll update and we can see in real time what’s coming at us.”   
  
“Agreed.  First order of business.  Stiles, get the doors open on the Way Station, Gar, cover him.  Everyone else, sight lines in case anything outside of his circle starts coming in.  I want to know first.” Luca looked at all of them before they nodded and took off at a sprint for their tasks.   
  
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Gar asked as he kept glancing back at Stiles.   
  
“Sort of.”   
  
“And how is that?”   
  
“Uh…”   
  
“It’s kind of accepted that you somehow turned on that other House.”   
  
“I didn’t mean to.  My other half did that… and used my magic to do it.  So I’m pretty sure turning on a Way Station is within my wheel house.”   
  
“How did they not punish you for that?”   
  
“Markov wanted to.  I think the fact that I can turn houses back on…makes the Elders see me as a tool to be pointed where they want me.  If you guys didn’t need me and I didn’t need you, and this place wasn’t needed, I’d be going straight for the place I know Derek’s at.”   
  
“He’s in demon territory.”   
  
“I can move through time and space.  And I can probably move Derek to me if I didn’t enjoy being awake for long periods of time.”   
  
“You’re insane.”   
  
“Yeah.  I am.” Stiles stepped back as the door popped open slowly but a couple inches.  “For fuck sake.” Stiles kicked it.   
  
“Easy.  We may need that to close again later.” Gar chuckled.   
  
“By the will of my line, I bid thee OPEN!” Stiles intoned and the door shook before making a horrible shrieking noise before being open enough to get inside.   
  
“Well you made it open.” Gar winced.   
  
“Yeah… not perfect but I’ll take it.” Stiles drew a symbol.  “Luca, the doors open, going in to secure the heart.”  The symbol twisted and moved till it was a pictographic face of Luca’s mask.   
  
“Be quick, I don’t like how quiet this place is.”   
  
“You and me both.” Stiles wiped the symbol off and had to hand Gar his pack before squeezing through and taking their packs inside.   
  
“What was that?”   
  
“Small spell I invented.  I can’t call Derek because it’s limited in how far it reaches.  It works as a kind of communication but it’s flawed.”   
  
“At least it works here.  You’ll have to teach the rest of us how to do it.”   
  
“I’ll put it on the list…” Stiles looked around the ruined inner dust filled tomb of a building.  “Right… Nav’tol’me!” Stiles held up his hand and a small red fox shaped flame like creature appeared in his hand and leapt away from Stiles.   
  
“Why’d it do that?”   
  
“The heart’s dead here.  It can’t just move the halls around.  But the spell without a heart generates a personal guide to lead you where you want to go.  Can you taste the magic in here?”   
  
“No…”   
  
“Me either.  That’s how drained it is.” Stiles followed the fox and Gar followed him.   
  
“So… any clue what you’re going to say to get the heart going again?”   
  
“Beyond ‘on’; not really, why?”   
  
“Just wondered how screwed we’d be.” Gar smirked.   
  
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Stiles rolled his eyes as they made it down to the lower level where they were walking through a heavily damaged area when a skull turned to them.  “DAMN IT TY!” Stiles jumped.   
  
“Sorry Stiles, Luca wants to know how close you are to the heart.  I had to hunt for something dead near you I could talk through.”   
  
“We’re almost there, why?”   
  
“Demons.”   
  
“How many?”   
  
“Too many.  We’re falling back to the main structure, but we were wondering why you left the door so open.” Gar and Stiles looked at one another.   
  
“We didn’t…”   
  
“Yeah it was just barely open.” Gar frowned.   
  
“It looks like the door was torn off the hinge from here.”   
  
“Crap.  Tell Zelth to get ready.  We have a demon in here.”   
  
“Will do, be there soon.” The skull seemed to drain of life before falling back against the wall.   
  
“I hate it when he does that shit.” Stiles shook his head.   
  
“You freak out at dead things?”   
  
“Remind me to tell you about Peter and why I think dead things should stay dead.” Stiles grumbled as they walked through the gloom, stopping when he felt something shift above them.   
  
“What?”   
  
“It’s coming.”   
  
“How can you…”   
  
“I just can…” Stiles frowned.  He knew this feeling.  He’d had it for the last year every time something supernatural came at him.  He was trying to nail down the type of supernatural.  Sure they said demon, but these people didn’t know what a cell phone was.  They might just be calling something else a demon for lack of better words.  And better words would tell Stiles just exactly what stood between him finding Derek.   
  
“Gal’vor…” Gar went silent mid spell.   
  
“Fuck.” Stiles hung his head.   
  


~gurgle~   
  
“Fuck, fuck fuck.” Stiles stopped moving.  “You still alive Gar?”   
  


~gasp gurgle growl~   
  
“Right… you’re alive, hurt, and the demon has your throat so you can’t say your spells.” Stiles sighed.   
  


~gurgle~   
  
“And the pain is too much for you to focus on a non verbal spell I assume.  So… I’m standing here with my back to the demon while it tries to figure out why I’m not moving and why we’re talking and it’s not burning.” Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose.   
  


~growl~   
  


~small squeaky noise cut off in a gurgling rattle noise~   
  
“Well that’ll be you losing consciousness or being dead then.” Stiles waited as the demon stalked up to him and began to sniff along the back of him.  “Oh for the love of God would you just DO IT ALREADY!” He turned forgetting his lance was in his hand and the bit of rage he put into that sparked his magic enough to extend the lance up through the heart of the creature that stood there wide eyed, stunned at the mortal wound Stiles had just given it.  “Fuck.” Stiles held on, looking it in the eyes as it’s blood ran hot down the lance in his hand.  He had a moment to feel the joy of surviving before the blood touched him and his magic reacted to it.   
  
It always reacted to werewolf blood.   
  
In that instant Stiles realized what he was looking at.  He could see through it.  See through whatever spell made them see it like this.  Made them see him like this.  He had stabbed a boy, barely older than him or Scott, straight through the heart, his face a look of fear and shock.  This kid had been out here, sent to fight them.  And now he was dead because Stiles had ended his life.  Stiles, Emissary of the McCall pack, had taken a life, and his hands were soaked in the life blood of an innocent werewolf.  Stiles had a moment to think ‘oh shit.’ Before the weight of what he had just done hit his magic.   
  
Taking a life is never a small thing.  There was a reason why no sane Witch or Wizard, or even the Druids had taken a life in blood magic for a hundred years, till Jennifer.  The sacrifice of the White Goat was forbidden.  A life is a heavy thing.  Taking it is even heavier.  And the magic knew.  As it always did.  It knew that one who had given an oath to protect had slain an innocent.  Stiles could feel his magic straining around the power that was building up.   
  


***

  
  
“FUCK!” Derek growled as he dropped to his knees, his chest tight, his body screaming in a stream of never ending pain.  He grabbed at his arm, and held onto the burning tattoo.  He could sense something bad had happened.  And as he tried to narrow down to just whatever he could get as an impression from Stiles, Derek got a sense of Stiles holding a lance, straight through a boy’s heart.   
  
Stiles.   
  
Skinny, weak, mortal Stiles….   
  
Had taken a life.   
  
Derek wept as he tried to hold onto whatever was left of Stiles in the chaotic storm that was tearing at them both.   
  


***

  
  
“Stiles… STILES!” Luca yelled.   
  
“Stiles can’t come to the phone right now.”   
  
“Wha… why?”   
  
“Stiles isn’t here right now.” Stiles turned and his eyes were pitch black.   
  
“SHIT!  Everyone back!” Luca threw a protective arm as the others dragged Gar back so that Zelth could tend to healing him.   
  
“Good.  Fear.  Keep that witch boy.  You’ll need it.”   
  
“What’s going on?” Zelth asked as he struggled to heal Gar.   
  
“This…” Void shook the body on the end of his lance at them.  “Broke him.” He gestured with his chin towards Gar.  “Stiles did a bad thing.”   
  
“Stiles killed the demon…”   
  
“Yes.” Void chuckled, his smirk wide.  “Yes.  Poor little Stiles took an innocent’s life.”   
  
“But that’s a demon…. They can’t be innocent…”   
  
“Oh… but they can.  This one is fresh from its hiding place… first time on the field.  Only bad thing it’s ever done was hurting that one… and that was to protect itself from the magic.  But then _it_ came up behind Stiles… and he forgot what he was holding.” Void smirked, mocking Stiles’ panic and fear.   
  
“Who are you?”   
  
“An echo.  A sliver of darkness that will forever haunt his soul.  And now that he’s taken the life of someone who has never shed the blood of another even once… and a virgin to boot, I’m in the driver’s seat while Stiles and his magic try to figure out what the fuck just happened.”   
  
“I don’t understand…” Ty frowned.   
  
“You smell of death magic.  Think about it.  What would happen if you killed a virgin witch boy who had never even looked at someone cross in his life?”   
  
“Holy shit.” Ty looked afraid, his dark slick hair looking darker as his tanned skin went pale in the half light of their glowing lances.   
  
“Talk to me Ty.” Luca spoke again.   
  
“This is high level death magic.  Old shit.”   
  
“The oldest.” Void smirked.   
  
“Stiles took an innocent life… and touched the blood, his magic… I don’t understand it… but … this one…”   
  
“Void.”   
  
“Void’s saying it reacts like mine would.”   
  
“Oh yes.  You or the nature boy over there.” He gestured to a pale boy with stringing black hair wearing a thick fur coat around himself.  “You might not have Druids here but you’re damn close.” Void smirked.   
  
“In necromancy… the slaying of a human … of anything innocent… taking the life blood… it’s too much power.  It can drive you mad.”   
  
“It can make you a god.  Little g of course, you have to have some major juice to get the big G.” Void seemed to weigh what he was saying.  “But the point is.  He did it.  He broke his vow of helping these… _demons_ and well… now he’s paying the price.”   
  
“He vowed to help the demons?” Luca tilted his head.   
  
“No Mask boy.  He vowed to help his friends who are like this thing.” He shook the dead body at them.  “Honestly, for being so full of knowledge that I can taste the age of it in you, you’d think one of you’d be smart enough to see _this_ …” He shook it again.  “For what _it_ is.” He rolled his eyes that faded back to Stiles’ eyes.  “Now… last thing I recall feeling from Saint Stiles… you lot needed to get this place’s mojo going.  You like dead bodies, might as well use this one.  Righty oh.” Void turned and walked down the hallway carrying the dead body on his glowing lance that had started to turn purple.   
  
“Do we stay here or follow?” Ty looked to Luca.   
  
“You and Hagig go after Void.  The rest of us will stay here.  I’d send Alvor, but I’m risking you with your death magic near whatever he has planned.”   
  
“Right.” Ty stood up and so did Hagig.  A tall dirty blonde boy dressed in six or seven layers of clothing and almost every inch of his body covered by it.   
  
“I don’t like this.”   
  
“I know.  I’m hoping you don’t have to do anything.” Ty nodded and they took off running.   
  
“You sent Hagig.” Zelth said quietly as he tended to Gar.   
  
“Stiles it too powerful.  Void seems to have the same powers, and none of Stiles’ issues about not using them.”   
  
“You really think he’ll be able to take out Void?”   
  
“Maybe.” Luca sighed.  “I’d rather it not come to that.”   
  
“Here’s hoping…”   
  


***

  
  
“You know I know you’re there.” Void said as he walked through the chambers.   
  
“Call us concerned.” Ty spoke up.   
  
“You I can buy being concerned.  That one… he’s scared.” Void shook his head pointing at Hagig.  “But not of me.” He paused.  “You’re scared of yourself…. Of what you might have to do… interesting.  Glad to know someone thought highly enough of Stiles to know to send the big guns.” Void shrugged and went back to walking.   
  
“What are you planning?” Ty asked.   
  
“I’m doing the job.  Stiles has rules.  This broke a LOT of them.  So I got out.  And now I’m going to earn a little time out of my cage.” Void stopped and put his hand on a sealed door.  “Open.” The door creaked open and a large lump of a stone hung inches off the ground in the midst of a large chamber.  “You need to stay out there.”   
  
“Why?”   
  
“Because this spell nearly killed Stiles when Derek cast it.  And the fact that I can do it without killing either of them doesn’t mean I can keep it from killing you.”   
  
“But you don’t care about us.” Hagig spoke in a low even voice.   
  
“I don’t.  Stiles does.  And he’ll punish me if I kill you.  So… stay.” The doorway seemed to fill with a solid compressed wall of air.  “Now… my lovely… why don’t you tell me your secrets.” He put a hand on the stone.  “Oh my…. You are a complicated bit of sorcery.” Void touched it gently.  “Oh…” He blinked, turned and looked at the body on his lance.  “Not bad…. Not bad at all.” He pulled the lance out of the body and put the dead body against the stone.  “From the two now make one.” The stone and the body became pure violet light as the body folded into the stone that burst with life and began to float higher as the lights began to come back online.  “Good start…” Void moved the energy back to the stone till he walked out and sealed the door behind him and smirked at the two who were standing there looking at him.  “What?”   
  
“Give his body back.” Hagig stood his ground.   
  
“Down boy.  I’ll be going back in a bit.” He yawned.  “Stiles just needs some down time to deal.”   
  
“What’d you do to the body?” Ty looked at him.   
  
“I’m a fan of irony.” Void walked past them.   
  
“What’s that mean?” Ty frowned.   
  
“The beast you hunt is now the living heart of your salvation.  I’m funny like that.” Void chuckled as he walked back towards the others who were sitting in a well lit hallway with Gar who was sitting up at least now.   
  
“Void?” Gar said in a tight voice.   
  
“For now.  Stiles will be back shortly.  But glad to see he didn’t kill you.”   
  
“Why don’t I believe you?”   
  
“Because I’m a trickster spirit.” His hand went out and touched Gar’s neck and pulsed as he fed on the pain there.  “My god… your pain and suffering is amazing… you’re not used to having a lot of this are you.”   
  
“no…” Gar sounded better, and frowned up at Void.   
  
“Oh no long faces.  I’d gut you and make you hurt more just to feed but Stiles has rules.  And killing that innocent was enough of a shock to his system.  I was on my best behavior just to keep from getting punished for his screw up.” Void sat down and made himself comfortable.   
  
“Wha…” Luca started   
  
“Changing of the guard.” Void smirked before his face went blank and confused.   
  
“Okay…” Stiles frowned as he looked around.   
  
“How much do you remember?”   
  
“I killed a demon…. And I think I connected to Derek… how did I get over here…?”   
  
“Void sat you down.” Stiles stilled.  “He said he was on his best behavior because the death of an innocent was too much of a shock already…” Luca watched as Stiles slowly relaxed.   
  
“Gods.” Stiles sighed.   
  
“I think we need to have a conversation…” Luca crouched next to Stiles.   
  
“Yeah… probably.” Stiles sighed.  “I was born in a place called Beacon Hills…”


	5. Message in a bottle

They were in the Way Station for a week rebuilding enough to have a secure place in the sanctuary to set up the map that Stiles designed.  It was, in a lot of ways, a low rent version of the map that he’d seen Master Markov use to show him the layout of this world.  He’d managed to create small rune stones to act as beacons for his map and he’d had Ty bring some mice back to life to carry them out to the spots he needed, deep enough underground that they wouldn’t be disturbed.  They still hadn’t gotten the defenses online and everyone had noticed that Stiles was less than keen on doing hand to hand combat.  They’d asked, but after explaining about his past and his magic, he’d simply gone silent on why he didn’t want to kill the demons.   
  
He’d figured out that they still saw demons.  But he didn’t.  He could see the truth behind it if he looked hard enough and could see the human betas charging at them.  He wondered what they saw when they looked at him.  Would Derek see him or whatever the other lycans saw that they wanted dead?  God that would hurt to see Derek look at him like that… He was fine creating a defensive shell around the Way Station, but he hadn’t touched his lance since he’d taken that boy’s life.  The boy he could still see walking the halls confused here.   
  
At first he’d assumed it was guilt.  But as he watched the guy move around and be confused he realized it was because of what Void had done.  When Derek used him to wake up a dying house, it had nearly killed the two of them.  To bring back a dead house… even a distal part of it, Void had had to give it a life, a soul.  So it gave it the dead wolf.  Now he was the living heart of this Way Station and Stiles was pretty sure he’d feel the same way Stiles did about powering up any weapons against the other wolves.   
  
“I just wish the armory would work right.” Kesh sighed as he sat down beside Stiles for lunch.   
  
“Still not putting out new lances?”   
  
“No new weapons, it’ll do the armor just fine.  But it’s like it’s fighting me on the weapons crafting.” Kesh was a forge mage.  His powers worked around making weapons and armor and crafting the spells in them.  He was their weapons smith and he was frustrated at the lack of cooperation that he was getting from the magic here.   
  
_Good_.  Stiles looked up and sat the wolf boy in his torn shirt, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at all of them.  _I’d poison the food too if I knew how… monsters._   
  
“I’ll go see what I can do about that.” Stiles sighed as he got up and walked towards the armory.   
  
_Over my dead body._ He chased after Stiles and followed him to the armory.   
  
“So what the fuck is your problem?” Stiles wheeled around and glared at the ghost.   
  
_You can see me… YOU CAN HEAR ME!?!?_ He started to panic and freak out.  _WHAT’S GOING ON WHAT AM I WHERE AM I HOW AM I NOT DEAD WHY CAN’T I..._   
  
“CALM DOWN!” Stiles shouted.   
  
_Sorry._   
  
“That’s better.  I’m sorry I killed you.  I saw a big gnarly looking demon and forgot I was holding the lance.  If I’d know you were a werewolf I wouldn’t have killed you.”   
  
_Wait… what?_   
  
“It’s a long story.” Stiles sighed as he walked on to the armory.  “And I get it.  You don’t want to give us weapons because you don’t want to hurt your friends.  I get that.  I respect that.  Truth be told it’s why I’ve been dragging my feet on rebuilding the outside weapons and the lethal wards.  This place… killing werewolves is wrong.”   
  
_You’re the first to think that here._   
  
“Probably.” Stiles sighed.  “My point is.  I didn’t mean to kill you.  I didn’t… know you.”   
  
_Know what?_   
  
“What did you see me as when you were alive?”   
  
_A big glowing demon of light and fire that wanted to kill us.  I didn’t understand why you didn’t kill me when I attacked the guy with the fire…_   
  
“I saw a big twisted dark creature, a demon of darkness who wanted to tear my throat out.” Stiles sighed.  “I think when you guys lost the ability to talk to one another, what you lost was the literal ability to see one another as human.  And a few generations of not being able to see anything but demons… you started hunting each other out of fear.” Stiles sighed heavily as he closed the door to the armory behind them.   
  
_That why I don’t see you guys as demons now?_   
  
“The dead see everything for what it is.  It’s one of the only fair things about death.”   
  
_I can get that._   
  
“Okay, so… that’s why you’re dead, which again, super sorry about.”   
  
_It’s okay…_   
  
“Also sorry for killing you while you were still a virgin.”   
  
_I’m not… I mean… I’ve… I’ve done things… I’ve…_   The ghost blushed.   
  
“Listen.  I know what I’m talking about.  I’m sorry just the same.” Stiles held out his hands.  “It wasn’t that long ago I was right there with you on that front.” He gave a sad smile.  “The point is, it sucks doubly for that.  And even more so because the counterpart to me, the dark creature stuck in my head… he used your death to restart the heart of this place.”   
  
_Like Derek did with our house’s heart… but he didn’t kill anyone._   
  
“That heart was dying.  It just needed a bit of magic to keep it alive.  This place was stone cold dead.  What it required as a life to give it life.  You died here… you were still attached to your body.  Due to the fact that most people don’t know about, but for the first seventy two hours of death, the soul is attached to the body still.  Some people feel what’s going on with their bodies.  Others are confused and walking around the given space they can go from their corpse.  But Void used the fact that you were still here and still _in_ your skin enough to count… to make a sacrifice of you and jump start this place, but it also made you the literal soul of this Way Station.”   
  
_So I’m in charge?_   
  
“After a fashion.  You’re able to do stuff like not make weapons.” He gestured to the slot in the wall that should be making lances.  “But eventually they’ll either ask me to fix this or I’ll have to tell them about you.  And then they’ll call it in and I’m pretty sure they’ll have someone back at their House who can do something about this.  Put you to sleep or something and turn this place into a weapon again.”   
  
_I don’t like that._   
  
“Me either.  So you need to play ball.  At least a little bit.  And I’m working on a way to explain that you’re not monsters to them.”   
  
_How… I mean I heard Derek talk about you… I treated him in medical.  I was going into my first heat soon…_   
  
“Yeah.  I’m pretty sure he’ll see me as the same kind of demon as you saw.  Which, while I’m glad he’s around other wolves for a lot of reasons, I’m also very cheesed at this stupid perceptive lie that’s stopping everyone from seeing each other.”   
  
_Why are you glad he’s among wolves?_   
  
“His entire family was burned to death by a psychotic human hunter who literally used sex with him to gain his secrets, and used his first time as a weapon against him so she could kill his entire family, his parents, siblings… everyone.  In front of him.  And then tortured him over the idea that sex with him made him worth letting live, but barely.”   
  
_Shit._   
  
“Yeah.  Coupled with the fact that when he became an alpha a couple years ago, he made a bunch of betas and then was forced to kill one of them and it … it hurt him to do that.  And he’s been kind of moody and withdrawn since then.”   
  
_He’s mostly worried about you out there._   
  
“Figures.” Stiles smiled.  “He’s used to the idea of me being the skinny guy in distress who needs to be rescued.  And then I got possessed by a Fox spirit, which is where Void came from.  And then I got dispossessed after I murdered a whole bunch of people.  Then I spent most of a year a prisoner of the Wild Hunt… and it just… it was a screwy year.”   
  
_Sounds like it._ He shrugged.   
  
“Anyways.  It’s good that Derek ended up surrounded by werewolves.  Especially with this stupid perception curse.  This lot would have killed him on sight.”   
  
_Dunno about that.  He was able to hold their lance and use it against the ones that tried to hunt him when he first came in._   
  
“Sounds like my Sour wolf.” Stiles smiled.  “I heard about that too.  The squad they sent to retrieve Derek for me said a demon attacked them and spoke one of their spells and then gibberish…. I should have known that was Derek.” Stiles chuckled.   
  
_Why?_   
  
“He can’t help but interrupt a spell with talking.  Its how we got here.” Stiles smiled.  “So… can you at least let this thing start working?”   
  
_I suppose._ He sighed but the wards suddenly powered up.   
  
“Thanks.  I’ll talk to them about no killing.”   
  
_Thanks._   
  
“Your welcome.” Stiles nodded.   
  


***

  
  
“What exactly do you mean the Way Station is haunted…” Ty frowned as he sat at the table with the others looking at Stiles like he’d lost his mind.   
  
“Effectively the spell void did put the soul of the…” He sighed.  “You call it a demon, and if I could explain how utterly wrong that is… I would.  But it put his soul into the heart to be the spark of life that holds the spells together for the heart to function.”   
  
“Right….” Ty opened himself up to the dead around here, mentally touching every dead thing here, and frowned.   
  
“I take it you found something?”   
  
“There’s… a person… behind Stiles.  I can’t see him… but I can sense him.”   
  
“That’d be the soul of the person who happens to be running this place.  And after a lot of talking and negotiating we came to a compromise.  He won’t keep delaying our progress in repairs if we agree not to kill any of the demons that come here.”   
  
“Stiles.” Luca sighed.   
  
“Listen.  I get it.  You were trained from birth to hate them and kill them.  He was trained the same about you.  Me.  I’m from a world where what you call demons, I call people.  I apparently can see through what makes you see them as demons and them see you as demons.”   
  
“They see us as demons?” Kesh frowned.   
  
“Similar to how when we look at them we see gnarled beasts of darkness, they see beasts of light looking to smite them.  They can’t see us as humans any more than we can them.”   
  
“They look human to you?” Luca frowned.   
  
“They are human.  After a fashion.  They… this place… something happened when your groups stopped talking to one another.  They’re all like Derek.”   
  
“You said Derek was something called a werewolf.” Gar frowned.   
  
“Exactly.  Once a month he has to be locked up or his bestial nature can come out to play and maybe want to lash out at people who’ve pissed him off.  Think of it as a supernatural period.”   
  
“Thanks for that lovely image.” Zelth winced.   
  
“My point is.  They’re normal people running around in a fight to the death with an enemy that can wield magic and reshape the world around them.  So they use their claws and fangs to try to fight back.  And I don’t know how to make you see that…” Stiles paused.  “Spirit of Dax bound to the spelled heart of this tower, be seen by those of the Kessil group.” A shower of red and green sparkles rained down and suddenly Dax was standing there behind Stiles.   
  
“Stiles…. That’s a person…” Luca was standing up.   
  
“I told you.” Stiles threw his hands up into the air.   
  
“So you did…” Luca kept his eyes on Dax.  “Ty?”   
  
“He’s a spirit.  He’s bound to the place.  And he’s recent dead…. So unless someone we don’t know showed up and died here… I’m going with Stiles on this one.” Ty turned to Luca.   
  
“Understood.” Luca sat back down.   
  
_Their not going to cleanse me are they?_ Dax turned to Stiles.   
  
“I dunno… are you?” Stiles looked to Luca.   
  
“You won’t interfere with our attempts to make repairs and maintain this place so long as we promise not to kill any of your friends?”   
  
_Ideally I’d have loved no harm, but since they see you as blood thirsty demons of light and you see us as blood thirsty demons of dark… I’ll agree to make things work better here if you agree not to kill anyone._   
  
“Your terms are agreeable.” Luca nodded.   
  
“Seriously?” Stiles frowned.   
  
“A sentient living mind that’s a part of the heart can affect repairs in sections we can’t reach even with our magics.  And it gains us no longer having to fight him every step of the way.  Our kill rate will go down to zero practically, but I can live with that.” Luca shrugged, going back to eating quietly.   
  
“You’re a hell of a lot more logical and sane about that than I thought any of you were going to be….” Stiles frowned.   
  
“Expecting a fight?” Kesh smirked.   
  
“No… more bigotry maybe, not a fight really.”   
  
“You do realize I started out life as a girl right?” Kesh raised his eyebrow.   
  
“Nope.”   
  
“Yeah.  We don’t usually hold to the concept of bigotry.  Not for a long time.” Kesh put his silverware down.  “At least not in house.”   
  
_You’d probably have still hated me if I looked like a demon._ Dax shrugged.  _Can’t say that I’d blame you.  I know how you feel._   
  
“It’s just easier when we can see who you really are.”   
  
_You mean my skin._ Dax arched a brow and made Kesh blush.  _Don’t worry.  I like that you look like this and not what I saw when I used to look at your people._ Dax smirked.   
  
“Is he flirting with me?” Kesh looked to Stiles.   
  
“Hey don’t look at me, I just work here.  I met him when I murdered him and have been slowly getting to know him over the last few weeks, so this might be flirting, it might just be how he is.”   
  
_It was flirting._ Dax grinned, walking right up to Kesh.  _That okay?_   
  
“Sure, I guess.  Not like anything can come of it…”   
  
_Oh?_ Dax leaned in and kissed Kesh which caused him to sputter and draw back.  _Feel real enough to you?_ He smirked.   
  
“How’d you do that?!?”   
  
“The heart has the ability to make you solid enough to move things, doesn’t it?” Stiles looked at Dax.   
  
_Solid enough… for a lot of things…_ He gave Kesh a knowing look.   
  
“oh…” Kesh blushed.   
  
“Okay… somehow I have a feeling I don’t want to know what you two are deciding…” Stiles put his fingers in his ears.   
  
_Hey I can’t help it you killed me as my heat was starting to rise… now I’m stuck perpetually horny._ Dax smirked at Stiles before turning back to Kesh.   
  
“Really?”   
  
_Yep._   
  
“That’s a shame…”   
  
“Settle it on your own time.” Luca cut in.  “For now, why don’t you to go down and deal with the armory and see if you can improve upon what’s going on there.”   
  
“Yes sir.” Kesh nodded and left swiftly, Dax following him.   
  
“I trust we’ll all find somewhere very far away from the Armory to be for the remainder of the day.” Luca glanced at the others.   
  
“Oh yeah.” Ty nodded.   
  


***

  
  
_Guys…_ Dax’s voice came through the walls.  _We have incoming…_   
  
“Great…” Stiles sighed.   
  
“How many?” Luca asked as they were all coming towards the map room.   
  
_Small group… five?_ Dax frowned.   
  
“What is it?”   
  
_They’re moving weird._   
  
“Weird?  Define weird?” Stiles zoomed in on one of the wolves.  “Wait…” Stiles frowned.   
  
“What is it?”   
  
“I know this move.” Stiles’ eyes went wide.  “Derek was training you guys right?”   
  
_Yeah…_   
  
“Sneaky Sour Wolf.” Stiles chuckled.  “Uh.. everyone stay in here.”   
  
“Why?” Luca turned to face Stiles.   
  
“Because I don’t have time to teach you the counter moves to this.”   
  
_You realize they’re going to be trying to kill you, right?_   
  
“When are werewolves not trying to kill me?” Stiles waves and dropped his lance at the door before slipping out and spelling it shut from the outside.  They’d be able to get out if he needed them but the wolves wouldn’t be able to get out.  “Right… let’s hope they took to your training.” Stiles looked down at his tattoo and sighed, charging head long at the nearest wolf.  Lunging his fist towards the wolf’s face, he ducked back and twisted to the left.  The others falling in line at his sides.  “Oh.  So you’re the Scott stand in.  Got it.  That makes you Isaac in this.” Stiles grinned.  Derek had trained them to spare with one another in specific groupings because it helped to send complex messages.  Stiles had been shocked that the Hale family fighting style was actually designed to be a covert message system as well.  And each one of the fighters had their own placement on the board to change what was being said but how it was meant to be heard.  Stiles took his place as the questioning party and began to move between the five wolves.   
  
‘Scott’ moved left while ‘Isaac’ moved forwards and ‘Boyd’ moved right.  Had to be ‘Boyd’.  He was the only one who had that arm movement in his conversational fighting.   
  
‘Right… so what are you trying to say to me Derek….’ Stiles mentally sighed as he dodged but didn’t try to land any punches now.  He’d already indicated by throwing that first punch that he was in questioning.  Not that these wolves had the faintest clue what they were saying.  They were just fighting in a specific fighting pattern that they’d been told to use.  Smart.  If Stiles saw this, then he’d respond, and they’d make it back home alive.  They’d think their new fighting style worked and Derek would know where Stiles was   
  
_Felt you kill ‘wolf’._   It was an odd movement for wolf.  Derek wouldn’t do that unless it also meant a name… Derek felt him kill Dax.  Shit.  Stiles choreographed his moves by moving around ‘Scott’ and going after ‘Boyd’.   
  
_Didn’t mean to hurt Dax.  Didn’t know he was a wolf.  Sorry._   Stiles hoped these guys would know enough to demonstrate what he was doing to Derek.  This would be so much easier if Derek were here or one of the wolves from their pack.  Stiles noticed a new message coming through.   
  
_Are you safe?_   Aw, Derek.  Stiles moved to ‘Isaac’ and did a leg sweep and leap frog maneuver as he went down.   
  
_I’m fine. I’m Stiles._   Stiles loved that his personal sign had been made into the double hands on the shoulder leap frog move.    
  
_Tell me anything you need to tell me._ ‘Scott’ had clearly been picked to be the lengthily message guy for this mission.  Stiles frowned though.  He did his rapid dodge that meant.  _I’m thinking._   And realized there was only one real way to get all the message he wanted to convey to Derek fast.   
  
“Inostros.” Stiles intoned, before he grappled ‘Scott’ and kissed what to him appeared to be a large burly demon.  Sealing his lips as tightly as he could to the man and picturing Derek in his head, he began to fill the spell in with everything he knew.  Where he was.  What was going on.  The state of this war.  What happened to Dax.  And most importantly that he loved Derek and hoped they could be together soon.  He was starting to pull away when he added ‘and don’t forget new questions’ to the end of it before pulling away and leaping over ‘Scott’ to make sure he signed the kiss with his name.  “Transit Opum.” Stiles intoned, a wave of energy flashing forwards, causing the wolves to vanish, and the wave to continue on away from the Way Station.   
  
_You said you wouldn’t kill them!_ Dax yelled.   
  
“Didn’t.  Teleported them away from here.  Hopefully confused enough they’ll go straight to Derek and tell him what moves I used.”   
  
_What moves… what does that matter?_   
  
“Because I want to make sure Derek hears me.” Stiles walked into the Way Station and headed towards the map room.   
  
“You want Derek to hear you so you kissed someone else?” Ty arched a brow.   
  
“Derek’s family invented a means of turning combat into communication.  I was answering his questions by focusing on the three he’d trained to ask the questions.   
  
_I didn’t see them talk…_ Dax frowned.   
  
“It’s hard to explain, but every action has a meaning.  A part of a phrase, and the way you move and do them in order changes what you’re saying.  Derek asked if I was safe, told me he felt it when I killed Dax, and asked me for info.  So I gave it to him.”   
  
“How?” Luca frowned.   
  
“Same way we send messages to troops.”   
  
“You tied the communication spell to a kiss?” Luca sounded shocked.   
  
“Yep.  And when that big guy gets back and explains that first he got kissed and then he got my signature move right after it, Derek will hopefully kiss him and get my information.  Otherwise the first person who kisses that guy is going to get some fucking gibberish in their head.” Stiles grinned.   
  
“You’re mad… you know that right?”   
  
“Yep.” Stiles smirked.   
  


***

  
  
“Elder… are you alright?”   
  
“No.  I’m just remembering how things went… and how if I’d known what I know now back then… I wouldn’t have been in such a rush to see Derek… I wouldn’t have used that kiss… and I wouldn’t have called him to this spot where I watched him die…” Stiles closed his eyes and wiped away the tears.   
  
“W…what happened next?”   
  
“The best and the worst days of my life… the end to that stupid war… and me finally losing my temper.” Stiles chuckled.  “So much happened… but let me rest a moment… I’ll tell you soon.  I’ll tell you about the night of unbridled passions that make me glad that these old stones can’t talk.” Stiles smirked.   
  
“Elder?”   
  
“Let’s just say… the first time I was standing in this spot… I wasn’t wearing clothes for very long.” Stiles smirked.  “But that’s a tale for another time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the cliffhanger. There is a proper ending, and it is coming. I just wasn't expecting to get so sick that I'd spend most of this season unconscious or too weak to move. But this also seemed like a good place to pause and let tensions build up. I hope you enjoy this. There will be a second section later on.


End file.
